


Renegades IV The Emperors Will

by gothikuk



Series: Renegades saga [4]
Category: Warhammer - All Media Types, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen, Gore, Heresy, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 15:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3452519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothikuk/pseuds/gothikuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Prospero in ruins the Emperor can no longer keep his plan secret. He orders Vulkan to meet with the Kharn, to see if he can persuade his brother to join the new fires of faith that are starting to grow over Terra, all will be by The Emperors Will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The inner sanctum of the Imperial Palace was silent, no servant moved and even the Custodian Guard stayed away from the room that the Master of Mankind held court with his sons. Each of the chosen sons stood before their father and, depending on where they stood depended on what image of him they saw. To Fulgrim, he was an artisan, a poet, a great thinker bringing perfection to an imperfect world. To Ferrus, he was the master of the perfect melding between man and machine, the Omnissiah made flesh. To Rogal he was the great Creaser, the man who brought not just continents but worlds under his control and his power. To Angron, he was the image of war incarnate; to kill those who would not follow his path was the only true way for a warrior god to be. Vulkan saw him as a master of fate, wielding his weapons that were his sons, in the battle for the future that could only mean one thing. Konrad saw him as the night stalker, the being that hunted in the night to bring justice to a universe that still had much to learn in the way of order. Lorgar, who gazed upon his father with the eyes of one who was vindicated in his beliefs, no matter how long it had taken, saw the great preacher, the man who challenged the unbeliever and cast him from his lofty perch into hells own fires. To Lorgar this was god as he had always been, since the first days of that ancient belief. Finally The Lion saw him as he really was the master tactician, the alpha male of his species and a warrior without peer. He was a keeper of secrets and master of all knowledge; this was the man he saw as his father.

There was no denying it now, not now and not ever, his father had been known by so many names and no doubt god had been one of them. He did not blame him for at first, not wanting to have anyone worshipping him, all it had brought was misery and death. Persecution and horror, but that was then and this, this was now. His father was a warrior, an artist, a ruler, a builder and a god all in one mighty, spell binding package. Who else could do the things he did, not even Magnus could do everything that his father had done, and would do in the future. Whosoever denied the Emperors divinity now, well there was only one course of action left open for them and that was to be forever cast into the pits of hell whilst the true sons of the Emperor continued the Great Crusade.

They had all been summoned here; the news of Angrons success in destroying Prospero and many of its people, in the millions was the last count had pleased the Emperor. However, Magnus and his sons escape to a world unknown had not pleased him and as Rogal cast a wary eye at his silent brother, he could almost sense the fires of shame burning in his eyes. He had killed every one of his sons who had failed him when they had attacked the Photep. The human and Astartes crews of that World Eater vessel Angrons Wrath had certainly lived up to its name. Dorn had asked his father not to judge Angron so harshly, after all none of them expected Leman to side with his old nemesis. Still Angron had been made to endure the torment of his father’s disappointment; the scars would take a while to heal.

Finally after waiting for him to speak, and they had been stood there a good seventeen hours the Emperor began to speak. His voice, like his face carried different aspects to each Primarch, which of course depended entirely on how they viewed him. It may have sounded gruff or soft, regal or calm, powerful and menacing, all these and more. But, no matter how they saw him or how they heard his voice the words were the same. He opened his eyes and focused on Vulkan and Vulkan alone for the moment.

“I have a task for you my son, one that you and your Salamanders would excel in”

Vulkan moved to one knee almost immediately “Name it father and it shall be done”

The Emperor moved from his throne and came down to stand before the kneeling Vulkan, he rested his hand on his sons shoulder and bid him to rise. Vulkan did so immediately in one smooth fluid motion. “I want you to go to Chogoris, I want you to meet with the Kharn, I know he is there overseeing recruitment and seeing to the bolstering of his worlds own Imperial Army regiments, and it has been a while since he was last there I believe.”

“Twenty-seven years last count father” Lorgar confirmed quietly.

“Thank you Lorgar. It will be a while before he will return when he is finished there this time. I want the mighty Kharn with us. Jughatti would be an exceptional addition to the ranks when he is here. His White Scars are faster than even the Lions bikers. I long to have the sons of Chogoris within my chosen circle”

“I will do as you ask father” Vulkan stepped back “May I take my leave?”

The Emperor nodded and watched as Vulkan strode out the throne room nodding to the two Custodians who opened the doors for him. The Emperor smiled to himself, always he had heard of the Lion, Horus, Gullimans victories, for their names were spoken high and proud along with Sanguineous, Russ, Dorn and yes even Lorgar, and yet he knew that Vulkan and the Kharn both had given much to the Great Crusaded and were not lauded enough. This would bring Vulkan into his own light and his Salamanders too, he wanted all his sons to have victory, and even Angron would have a complete victory one day.

“Now” He turned to the others “I understand some Salamanders and World Eaters who did not wish to embrace the new order managed to find their way to The Thousand Sons and Space Wolves fleet”

Each brother looked at each other wondering how their father could know this; all with the exception of Lorgar “Typhus” He enlightened them before anyone could ask.

“You are seriously having a joke with me, a poor attempt of one at that” Konrad scowled disbelievingly.

“No brother I am not. Typhus and a couple of others are our spies in the camp of Horus; it really is them and us now”

“Gather round my sons, let us decide how best to proceed” The Emperor retook his seat and his sons sat round him on their own seats and to those who saw them, they might as well have been warlords making plans….which indeed they were.

 

The White Scars mingled with the native peoples making sure that everything was as perfect as it could be, in the nomadic tribes that made up the populace fathers were instructing their eldest sons on techniques that would see them through the hardships of the tournaments which, the Great Khan willing, would see their names carry much honour as a son of the Khan.

Amongst the populace and, in the shadow of the great Fortress Monastery of The Palace of Quan Zhou, the sons of the Khan walked, exchanging pleasantries with the older members of the populace and showing them great respect. Like any Nomadic Tribes, the elders were seen as having wisdom beyond their great years. One of the giants garnered much awe and cheering as he strode through the busying crowds. The First Captain of the First Chapter was indeed a sight to behold. His stature and honour scars speaking volumes and with the great Jubal Khan being here then that meant that the Great Khan himself would not be far behind.

The Khan himself was sitting in his massive throne room, thinking about the events on Prospero. Even now he was cursing himself that he could not be beside his beloved brother Russ when it came to fighting Angron's dogs. He respected Magnus for his wisdom, despite the way some of his other brothers viewed him, Magnus was a never ending fountain of knowledge and now….well now he was not sure what role the Thousand Sons would be able to play now. Many sons of the Wolf and the Crimson King had lost their lives defending what they believed in.

He sat with his eyes closed, honouring the fallen from both Legions and looked forward to aiding his beloved Wolf brother against the enemies of man. Now however he was here to oversee the next choosing and, in light of Prospero’s fate he wanted to ensure that his world was ready to defend itself from his mad brothers. Chogoris was a world of beauty and splendour, he had not spent all his youth uniting the tribes for it to all be washed away by his turncoat brothers and insane father, besides he also had to deal with the Dark Eldar, although to be honest the savagery of the tribes made sure that those raids were inconsequential.

He opened his eyes slowly as Captain Noray Singh came before him; the Second Captain of the Second Chapter bowed his head low.

“My apologies my Lord, our astropaths have received a message for your eyes only” He handed Jugathi a data-slate and stepped back.

Jugathi took a moment to look over his Second Captain. His dark hair was tied up into a tall topknot and his moustache was beyond his chin. His battle scars and tribal marks made him second in stature to Jubal. Jugathi allowed himself a wry smile, he had chosen Noray himself, he had been one of the young warriors from his own tribe of the Talskars, and he had a fire in his eyes that much resembled Jugathis when he was younger, if he had ever been young. He had garnered many victories for the Scars and was rumoured to be Jubal’s successor should anything happen to him.

The Primarch moved his attention to the data-slate and read it. His brow furrowed deeply and he stroked his long moustache slowly, a sign that he was not altogether certain about what he was reading or seeing.

“My Lord is something wrong?” Singh asked.

“Possibly, possibly not” Jugathi replied “It would seem my brother Vulkan would like to have a conference with me”

“And you believe him lord?”

“I do not know what to believe Noray, I do not want to believe that Vulkan is part of this madness but, I cannot discount that he might be. I will accept his request but I will not welcome him with our faces of peace. It will be a few days before he is here, time enough for me to oversee the choosing” Jugathi rose from his throne “Then I will see what the Great Fire Lord wants.” 

The Promethean made its way towards the White Scars home world. In his stratagem Vulkan sat listening to a holo-image of Lorgar. It crossed his mind that none of them had seen Valdor or the Siglite for some considerable time. Lorgar had taken up much of the Regent's former duties; he may have still officially been the High Priest of the Imperial Creed but he was more than that now. He had even killed his First Captain to stamp his authority once and for all over his Legion.

Vulkan’s red eyes glowed eerily in the limited light of the Sanctum, listening not only to his brother but also to the chattering of the creature bound to his Gorgon forged hammer. It seemed to agree with whatever Lorgar said, but there was also an underlying chatter that told the lord of Nocturne that as a Primarch he was equal to all his brothers.

“Try and sway the Khan Brother” Lorgar gently said “The last thing we need is the fate of Prospero to befall the peoples of Mundus Planus”

“With Angron’s actions Lorgar, it is safe to say that Jugathi will not be so willing to be swayed” Vulkan reasoned “In fact he will have his home worlds defences ready to react to a moments action”

Lorgar cocked his head a little “Do as your heart tells you brother, you are part of a bigger destiny now, no more will they sneer at the Great Drake himself, and no more will the Salamanders be seen as a small insignificant Legion.”

“And if father cannot have his way?”

“Then you and I both know brother it will be war, we are trying to avoid such a conflict but if it must be so then so be it.”

Vulkan nodded and inclined his head towards his brother and broke the connection. Somehow he knew that was already happening, the incessant voice of his warp gifted hammer had already told him the sparks of war were beginning and if he was honest he relished it, he touched the symbol etched onto his hammer, the eight pointed star of chaos undivided and thought he heard the laughter of thirsting gods. 

On the other side of Holy Terra as it was now becoming known was a land in the Pan Pacific area known more for its climate and its harsh conditions that made it ideal for training not just Astartes or Custodes but the Imperial Army too.

Deep under one of the oldest rocks in the centre of this land that had once, millennia ago been a colony for an empire to send its convicts, a small group suddenly had an inkling of what those ancient peoples must have felt like. They had been here for weeks, waiting for a chance to get their charge to safety. It was getting harder with the Black Templars enforcing the new Imperial Creed upon the billions of Terran citizens and with the Gal Vorbrek looking for the Siglite; they had to take their chances.

Amon sat beside Valdor and looked out upon the desert land that was a large part of this continent. The Custodes did not have bonds of brotherhood like the Astartes, they fought individually even when they fought together, however, Amon and Valdor were friends, and when Constantine Valdor had decided to take the Siglite out of harm’s way, Amon had gone with them. With eight others they alone were responsible for keeping the former Regent safe.

Neither man knew what had happened to their master deep under his palace, all they knew was he had changed and none of it was good.

“I cannot believe Magnus is crippled” Amon finally spoke “He would be the only one to subdue the Emperor…..listen to me talking about subduing the mightiest Psyker that has ever lived, who would have believed I would be uttering such words Constantine”

Constantine shrugged but said nothing, his gaze watchful, his duty clear, get Malcador to safety. They would not be safe for long, eventually they would have to move on, but if they could get off planet and reach Horus then the Siglite would be safe. Then and only then would he be able to honour his fallen Custodes, and there had been a few. Amon cast a glance at his commander, of them all Valdor had been with the Emperor a long time, he may even know the Emperors true name but whatever they shared it was gone now.

The whoreson Lorgar would hunt them down because he would not forgive or forget the slight Malcador played in the shaming of his sons. Correction, perceived slight, Frag, he would not be surprised to discover that this was all that blasted Theologists fault in the first place.

“This is more than Lorgar could cook up Amon”

Amon span round to see Malcador approach them both and scowled a little.

“Forgive me warrior, your thoughts are angry enough for me to pick up, I meant no intrusion”

“My Lord, you should not be here” Amon recovered his annoyance “We are camouflaged by our cloaks, you are not and if the Emperor should see your imprint….”

Malcador held his hand up “I am masking my signature, and I am tired of being cooped up like a chicken”

There was a silence before Malcador gave Valdor a meaningful look. Valdor heaved a sigh and told a somewhat reluctant Amon to check the perimeter of the rock they were perched on. Amon was not one to shirk his duty but nor was he one to leave the two most respected individuals in their group. However, when Valdor Constantine said to do something you did it. Even though their master was now a total stranger to them, Valdor still spoke with the authority that he had been given centuries ago.

Malcador sat his frame down and looked out across the desert landscape.  
“The ancients of this land called this rock Uluru,” He mused “It was sacred to them; you have seen the cave paintings?”

Valdor nodded “For less enlightened times”

“This was a sacred site to the ancients, one story had that there was a war between the creator beings and the resulting bloodshed caused this rock to rise up coloured red with the blood spilt. Given the current situation there might be some ironic symbolism in those tales of the past and today”

Valdor glanced to the heavens “He will find us eventually Mal, you know Lorgars accursed Gal Vorbrek are on our tails”

Malcador nodded “We need to get to the disused station at Alyce Springs, get off world and head for either Ultramar or The Vengeful Spirit”

“And how long can we travel before he picks up your Psyker imprint? Mal you are powerful but you are not him, no one is, if stories are to be believed then with Magnus gone there is no one to stop him”

“Magnus is not gone Con, he is severely wounded but he is powerful in mind.”  
“And you have seen it?” Malcador nodded “So then has the Emperor”

Malcador was about to retort when then colour seemingly drained from his face and he turned his face southwards, Valdor felt it too. It was power and terror on a primeval level, a contained rage that seemed to encompass the air around them and permeate through to their bones.

“He’s come with them” Malcador whispered.

Valdor got to his feet and called his men out. With swift instructions he gave the care of Malcador to Amon, Tzeun, Ramas, Torn and Arten. He cut off any disagreements and arguments telling them their only mission was to get Malcador to Horus or Gulliman, they were Custodes and the protection of the Regent was their duty.

Amon swallowed and rested his hand on Valdors shoulder “We will not meet again, will we Constantine?”

“Do your duty Amon and fates willing I will see you there, if not…..then I will see you in the next life when we battle side by side once more”

Amon nodded and with his men and Malcador they began to move, leaving Valdor and the last of the loyal Custodes to the Imperial Truth, to face whatever wrath was coming their way.

Garl Hanal, one of the newest members of the Gal Vorbrek not only felt pride at serving in what had essentially become the Primarchs bodyguard but, also the Elite unit of the Word Bearers. They marched to Lorgars orders and right now, under the leadership of the mighty Argel Tal, the Crimson Lord himself, they hunted with the Emperor.

Their task had started a few months ago when Constantin Valdor and some of his own elite Custodes had gone AWOL with the former Regent, The Siglite. The father of mankind, already annoyed by Agnon’s failure to bring back the Crimson King and his elite cadre had a rage so incandescent that he sought to hunt down his oldest friends and punish them.

Lorgar had sent the Gal Vorbrek to aid the Emperor and although it had taken a long while to pick their scent up, finally they had. He looked around him and felt pride that man had, once upon an age managed to live here. It had seemed inhospitable to him, but it was the genius and strength of man that ensured that now the Hive cities made this land liveable. He wondered why the Emperor had not filled this desert with towns or villages but then he could see why, the Emperor had left this desert the way it was as a reminder of what once was, before the wars that boiled the oceans away and turned much of the landscape to molten blasted glass.

“First time in Australasia?”

He turned to see Brenton Harg, and nodded “This would be a good place to train brother”

“We do what the Primarch and God tells us to do, and right now we are hunting. Argel Tal requires you and I to scout ahead, so let us allow the blessed beasts to come to the fore and hunt our enemies”

Hanal nodded, holstered his bolter and closing his eyes allowed the demon inside him to come to the fore. He had been chosen for the Gal Vorbrek because of his scouting abilities and his devotion to the creed of Lorgar.

He had been killed then reborn in the fires of the Gal Vorbrek, his body changed. Hanal was already a well-muscled youth before the changes that had made him an Astartes now with the merging of his body with the demon Arc’alatha the hunter he was even bigger. His face altered, red eyes replaced his human eyes; fur came out along his body then hardened into spikes. Two horns erupted from each side of his head curling inwards like a bulls horns. His face altered until he looked like an ancient Minotaur, his mouth filled with razor teeth and with a nod from the Crimson Lord he and Brenton Harg, already changed to his demonic half Arcata the destroyer lopped off ahead.

The Emperor turned to the Gal Vorbrek, “Malcador and Constantin are to be kept alive, and I will face Constantin, is that understood?”

“Yes my lord” the Crimson Lord bowed his head, his hearts hammering in his chest as his deity spoke to him and his brothers.

Satisfied that his word would be obeyed they continued onwards and the Emperor gripped his sword. He did not want to kill his old friend, he could use Constantin’s strengths, and all he needed was persuasion.


	2. Chapter 2

A world of lush greenery, soaring mountain peaks, snow white clouds and azure seas, untouched by the ravages of pollution so common in the populated worlds of the Imperium of Man was pleasingly unseen here. Chogoris was the jewel in the crown of the worlds that were periously close to the area of space called the Maelstrom.

As the Promethean made its way towards the fertile looking world, the giant on the Stratagem walkway gazed at the world appearing before him and went over what he knew about the world of the White Scars. It was a feudal world and aside from the Scars using the levels of technology they were famed for, the populace had only just been introduced to Black Powder weapons, much like the Age of Progress in Terras distant past.

This was the home world of his brother The Great Khan, the warrior that had united a world under his banner. Nomadic tribes that still had their way of life but all bowed to the authority of the Great Khan and Vulkan knew that for all their ancient customs and ways, the Scars were feared and for good cause. No one struck like the Scars; they were famous for their hit and run tactics, their speed and their skills at riding the Astartes assault bikes. The Raven Guard were known for their lightning the attacks and use of jet packs, the Night Lords for their night time attacks that made them feared throughout the Imperium.

However, when it came to lightning fast attacks by bike or land then none were better, he was aware of why the Emperor wanted the Khan but what concerned him was would Jugathi come to the Emperors way of thinking. It was well known of his closeness with Russ and the Rout; it was also known that they had restored Perturabos honour when a plan by the Lion to capture one of the Comrades citadels fell awry. He honestly did not believe that Jugathi would join the elite. He gripped the hilt of his hammer tightly, listening to the voice that was forever guiding him and counselling him. If the Khan did not join the new order then there would be only one outcome and if that was the case then Vulkan had come prepared. Behind the Promethean the whole Legion manifested and kept their distance.

Ready for their lords order, to either welcome the White Scars to the Emperors new order…or destroy them so utterly that it will make Prospero look like a walk in the park

 

The trials were over and now the Legion of the White Scars was lined and ready to receive their visitor. However, despite them showing respect to the impending entourage there was an air of threat around them, from the highest ranked First Captain to the Lowliest Novitiate not one of them had not heard of what had happened on Prospero nor had they not been kept in the dark about what had happened to World Eaters and Salamander who had not followed their fathers into the Emperors new service.

This in mind, the White Scars were ready to deal peacefully with their cousins or violently if the need arose. Although to be brutally honest not one of them relished the possibility that they might have to fight their own. Astartes did not fight Astartes, Astartes did not kill Astartes, it was a mantra that had been in effect since time immemorial and, despite what they had been told or had learnt, they still found it hard to believe it had happened.

The Khan stood with his First and Second Captains either side of him and the First Chapter Terminators behind him. Jugathi watched the Stormbird begin its descent, he could pick out the green of the Salamanders colours and arched an eyebrow as he saw the Firedrake head wrought to the nose of the Stormbird. It came down gracefully and once the engines had settled the ramp opened to reveal blackness. After a moment or two six warriors of the Firedrakes Company came down the ramp marching in perfect harmony following their First Captain Jarek Vas’ra and Jugathi could see the scars upon his dark face from where he stood. He stayed his First Captains attempt to move and shook his head.

“They come here uninvited” He whispered “Let them come to us not us to them”

Jubal stepped back and shared an uneasy glance with Noray but then refocused his attention on the emerging Primarch. Whether Vulkan was a Primarch to be trusted or not, such was his power, his magnetism that every single White Scar moved to one knee. The Great Khan could not blame them; such was the magnetic personality of a Primarch only another could stand in his presence. He nodded at his first and second captains and they moved to one knee as Vulkan finally emerged.

Like all Primarchs Vulkan exuded strength and power and, his youth as a smithy showed in the power of his arms, arms that the Khan believed but Russ or Angron to shame. His onyx skin glowed with a sheen that seemed otherworldly and his red eyes, the strange genetic quirk that all the Salamanders had. Something to do with the radiation in their skies and Jugathi knew that it was the eyes more than anything else that seemed to scare the bejeebers out of the enemy.

He wore armour wrought in emerald and jade and across his back sat the skin of a great Salamander that he had killed when he had first met their father. The head formed the left pauldron whilst a great claw sat upon the right one. He carried two hammers; one however, was very different to the other. One he had used in his youth constructed himself and had battled his way across the stars with since his founding. The other was a thing of beauty, inlaid gold with the head of a Salamander wrought into the iron and the Great Khan recognised the work of The Gorgon himself.

Vulkan looked around him and then in a quiet and yet powerful voice bid the White Scars to rise, honour had been done. The White Scars did so and snapped to attention. Vulkan now focused his attention on his brother. The Great Khan, his mission was clear but as he gazed into the stone face of his nomadic warlord brother, he realised that this was not going to be easy. He moved towards him and Jugathi met him half way with an embrace and a whisper in his ear.

“Do you come to see me out of brotherly love Vulkan, or do you come to do to me what Angron did to Magnus?”

Vulkan’s red eyes widened a little and he was momentarily wrong footed, but soon recovered. “Father has asked me to speak to on his behalf, alone Jugathi”

The Great Khan nodded and stepped to one side. The two brothers walked side by side towards the Khans private sanctum and the First and Second Captains of the First and Second Chapters watched the Firedrakes with suspicion.

 

Amon glanced over his shoulder and urged his men to pick up the pace; there would be no more time once Constantin had battled the Emperor and his hunters. Malcador was the last best hope and if he died trying to get the Siglite off planet then, as long as he was off planet his duty was done.  
Malcador pointed to a small township and puzzled Amon and his men followed, this was not Alyce Springs, this was some place called Cutters Creek.

“My Lord…” Amon began

Malcador raised his hand to silence him for a moment and looked around him. He was not going to get off planet, he knew this just as Constantin had known it however, he would do what he had set out to do although this was risky in itself it might just work.

“Amon, do you know how the Emperor came into existence?” Malcador asked as they headed towards Cutters Creek.

“No one knows Lord” Amon glanced over his shoulder once more, hoping not to spot any of the Gal Vorbrek. He was afraid of no one but Lorgars bastard merged sons had power that was from places he did not want to contemplate.

He really did not want to hear any stories about the Emperor, not anymore all he wanted was to continue his duty and, the fates willing get back to Valdor. Unlike the Astartes who valued the bonds of brotherhood the Custodes had no such bonds, individuals who fought in their own styles and yet they worked well together and yet Amon considered Valdor a close personal friend, his mentor and one who had congratulated him on getting closer than anyone had in the Blood Games, when times were not so topsy turvey.

“Some say that he was born to mortal parents, others say he is the product of ancient Shamans” Malcador continued as if he was oblivious to Amons disinterest “But, only I and Constantin know how he came to be and how we had an inkling this was going to come to pass. So with that in mind we came this way knowing that he would follow us”

Amon turned to face the Siglite “You both knew he would hunt you down?”

“Of course, we and we alone know where he comes from and so, with that in mind we concocted a new plan, one which would ensure word got to Horus but would mean that neither of us would escape the fate that destiny has ordained for us”

Amon was still unsure what the Siglite was on about but when Malcador led them into the ghost town that had been Cutters Creek he did not like the way the other Custodes moved away into a protective circle, did they all know something he did not.

“As Constantin’s favoured Custode this task has fallen to you. My frail body will not be able to withstand a beating from the Emperor; I was barely able to recover from the blow given me by Lorgar at Manchurian”

“What are you going to do to me Malcador?”

At a nod from the Siglite, Tzeun, Ramas, Torn and Arten held a shocked Amon Tauromachian fast. Amon began to struggle, believing that his comrades had all come under the sway of the Dark Emperor but it was not so.

Malcador leant in and touched Amons brow “One of us can get to Alyce Springs easier than a group of us. I am not long for this world my friend but, I wish to impart some of my power into you; it will keep you hidden long enough and, enable the message to be delivered to Horus and the others. This my friend is my last order to you”

Amon did not care for the powers of Psykers; he did not like them anywhere near him, the exceptions being Malcador and the Emperor and yet the finality in Malcadors eyes stayed his instinct to lash out.

“What would you have me do First High Lord?” he whispered.

“Just relax and then let this be my last stand. The mission is more important than the people Amon this as a member of the Custodes you know”

Amon closed his eyes and Malcador nodded. He was released and Malcador began his work.

Vulkan walked with his brother to the throne room of the great monastery. He stood and admired the artworks that depicted the Khans unification of the tribes and the coming of the Emperor. On the other side of the vast chamber were works depicting the victories of the Khan and his sons with other Legions and their own battles. Great banners hung from the ceiling, not only the company banners of the White Scars but their tribal banners too.

Vulkan was amazed at how much the Scars sought to keep their heritage past and present. He had always known his brother to be a master of lightning strikes that could put the Night Lords and the Raven Guard to shame. Although the Dark Angels and other Legions bikers could move and perform seemingly impossible combat moves. The White Scars were second to none, there were none better when it came to bike combat and any form of fast combat, no wonder their father craved the co-operation of Jugathi Khan and his sons. Jugathi had always followed the Emperor without question, for he was the Emperor and he was right, but in view of recent events Vulkan wondered if the Khans bond with the Wolf King and his respect for Horus would win out over his duty and love for his father.

He was alone for the moment and he took the time to think over what had happened in his life thus far. He was accommodating to his brothers requirements when it came to a hands down fight, he was diplomatic where others might be pragmatic, he had a good relationship with the Gorgon, the blade he had given Ferrus as a mark of love had been dourly accepted, it was only when the two had finished prosecuting a theatre of war in the Harken System that Ferrus had took him to one side and told him he had named the blade Drake, in his honour.

Vulkan’s heart had soared at the words; everyone knew that the Gorgons moods were like his home world of Medusa, molten and always shimmering with repressed anger and rage. In fact in some people’s minds it was only his First Captains influence that had seemed to stop him from becoming another Angron but since news had filtered through of Santors death the Gorgon had become more, unstable, like the volcanoes that made up Medusa’s fiery core.  
Ferrus had gifted him with a weapon that he wore by his side, a drake headed bolter that Vulkan had named Mercurial in honour of the Gorgons unusual hands. It was known that Vulkan had perhaps been close to Corax but now, well now he was not sure where that would lie. He now had to use all his known diplomacy and candour to avoid any unwanted bloodshed.

Sometimes in moments of clarity he wondered what had happened to him when his father and brought him into the fold. His memories were cloudy on that matter, he had received the hammer, another gift wrought by Ferrus and then it was all a cloud at that point. He even pictured himself kneeling before his father but nothing between that, getting the gift and shooting his own sons. He drew in a deep breath as the memory of his sons’ faces as he gunned them down, as brother turned on brother, cousin turned on cousin surfaced unbidden and for a moment, the briefest moment he faltered in his belief.

It is only natural to feel remorse at the deaths of your sons Vulkan the hammer in his hand that had been his constant companion since receiving it from his father spoke in his mind Sa’gera was a voice of reason and it continued its chatter unhindered. But sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Your father is on a journey that will make humans the rightful rulers of the universe and like any father he wishes his sons and his grandsons to follow in his footsteps

“I do not want the death of a brother on my hands if I am honest” Vulkan scowled “There has been enough bloodshed already, and I wish father had sent me after Constantin and Malcador instead of the Gal Vorbrek. If we are to succeed in persuading our brothers then this is not the way to go about it”

This is true my master, but there are some brothers that will not agree to this and the only recourse is war or to prevent it before it even starts. Your compassion for your brothers is admirable my lord, however your fathers will is more dominant and that must come before any fraternal loyalties.

“And did Kor Phaeron and Gabriel Santor deserve to die because they felt differently?” Vulkan snapped irritably “Did Magnus deserve to have his back broken and his world destroyed?”

Kor Phaeron was calling the Emperor a fraud and Santor I believe was a mistake. Magnus went against his father’s laws and therefore had to be punished. If you are not ready to do this master then may I suggest leaving and returning when you are

Vulkan sheathed his hammer to stop the chatter, he was not about to walk away from a sworn moment, however he would not just blindly destroy a brother and his world because of a difference of opinion. He paced the throne room once more his mind at conflict. One moment it was clear and calm, the next he was like a raging fire wanting to destroy what would not do as it was told and he continued to rant to himself, unaware that the exchange had been overheard by a perplexed and concerned Jugathi Khan.

What has happened to you brother?

He had not heard the other voice he had just heard Vulkan seemingly talking and ranting to himself, and the Khan began to worry that his silent and thoughtful brother was slowly losing his mind.

 

Amon had braced himself for the psychic pain of intrusion but, it was not like that at all. He had seen what the Emperor was capable off when he had culled the ranks of the Custodes but this was far from that awful pain those poor souls would have felt. It was a gentle nudge almost paternal and regretful in the nature of the intrusion, but even though this was a regretful action, he was under no illusion that if he needed to, Malcador could be as violent with his Psychic power as the Emperor, with that in mind he opened his eyes and found himself on a landscape that was calming and beautiful.

There was a figure before him, young and strong and he knew this was Malcador as he was seen on the Psychic plane. Amon looked around him, golden sandy beaches and a beautiful sea of green and blue. Around him people were screaming with joy and swimming in a sea that no longer existed, they were carefree and loving the sun that was not toxic to them.

He got to his feet and walked towards Malcador the people around him oblivious to the giant amongst their midst, or maybe they could not see him, he did not know.

“Lord?” He whispered.

Malcador turned and gripped his staff and Amon suddenly had an inkling of what Malcador was like as a younger man, if anything like that was possible.

“Forgive me for this Amon,”

“Is this how you spend your alone moments?”

Malcador smiled a little “It is a memory of better times that I have clung onto. Now I have planted in your memory everything that the other Primarchs need to know” Amon did not fail to notice the abrupt change of subject. Malcador wanted this done and underway “Use whatever means to fulfil this mission my friend, you came closer than any other Custodes to assassination of the Emperor in the blood games, so do not fail us now”

“It will be done”

There was a slight flash of light and once more Amon found himself in the ruins of Cutters Creek and Malcador moved back “Give yourself a moment to recover my friend, this is not an easy transformation”

“I am well Lord” He got to his feet.

Malcador rested a gnarled hand on his am “Then go my friend, use all your cunning and your skill and get to Horus or Gulliman, whomever you deem fit”  
He bowed his head and for a brief moment looked back towards where they had come from then he was gone. Malcador watched until he was out of sight then turned to the remaining Custodes “Prepare”

 

They came like beasts from an old horror movie. Constantin Valdor had seen them hunt traitors to the new design and what had happened to the poor souls when they were caught but whereas they were human, he was a Custodes. He was made different to these abominations and he would show the whoresons of Lorgar why it was he had been the Emperors right hand man and Lord of the Custodes.

He stopped the first of the Gal Vorbrek with a timed swing of his guardian spear knocking the possessed warrior sideways, before he had a chance to recover a blast from his spear sent the possessed warrior to his knees and finally Constantin span his weapon round and brought it down in an arc that cleaved the head to crotch that had him fall in two separate halves, his life blood pooling around his guts like some unholy savage gift to whatever foul being he now served.

Gar Hanal stared as his pack mate Jan Torman fell in two halves at the hands of Constantin and howled in rage, he wanted the bastard, orders are damned and without thinking he leapt over the body of a Custodes who was still fighting, despite the fact he was being torn to pieces by his attackers. His goal was clear and as he leapt through the air to reach his prey he was slammed down by the Crimson Lord himself.

++When I tell you not to attack someone that is what I mean, he is for the Emperor not us++

++He killed Torman++

++Do not disobey me brother, less I rip the beast from you now vent your choler elsewhere++

Hanal narrowed his eyes, his choler was up and he wanted revenge but the Crimson Lord was the Alpha, he spoke with the authority of the Primarch and yet Torman had been his friend since his induction into the Word Bearers and before even that. He narrowed his eyes and he openly challenged Argel Tal’s authority.

The Crimson Lord took the attack made upon him by one of his own in his stride. He had no need for any ostentatious shows. The child had guts he need tempering. With a blow from his fist he sent the younger possessed to the floor and barred his own demonic visage.

Without a word he battered him into unconsciousness and stepped back calming himself and was joined by Xaphen already he had blood on his Crozius from the Custode he had battered to death whilst reciting the words of Lorgar.

++What should we do with him? ++

++He has spirit and balls to challenge me Xaphen, perhaps a course in temperance at your hands will be sufficient to teach him who the Alphas are++

Before the Chaplain could answer they felt it. All the Gal Vorbrek felt it, the Emperor roared his silence and the slain Custodes who had taken a few of the possessed with them moved with the shock of his shout, even their dead bodies unable to ignore the call of their master.

Constantin was released from his hold by two of the possessed and got to his feet. He was bloody and bruised and around him were the slain bodies of each of the Gal Vorbrek that had been stupid enough to come near him. He got to his feet; his helm broken and battered at the floor and grimly faced his former master. The silence was deafening and not one of the possessed dared to breathe as their Deity came into view.

“Constantin” The Emperor whispered and cupped his hand round his old friends face in a fatherly gesture “Why?”

“You are not the same anymore. I went along with it as long as the Imperial Truth was not harmed or usurped in its truths, you have taken everything that the original Thunder Warriors’ fought and died for following your emphatic words that there is no such thing as God, you have taken their sacrifices and the sacrifices of those who joined you and tossed it in the trash”

Constantin held his masters gaze and despite their oaths, every single one of the Gal Vorbrek respected the master of the Custodes more in that moment then they had in any other.

The Custodes were called the Lions for good reason but here, amongst the death and destruction of their own and the Custodes that had fought with Valdor stood the true Alpha Lion of the pride.

“You ask for trust and loyalty and yet all my trust and loyalty for you went the day you killed my men and set brother against brother! How many innocent people died because you underestimated the Crimson King?”

His face snapped hard as the Emperor slapped him into silence and then stepped back. A trickle of blood fell from Valdors mouth and the Gal Vorbrek murmured as they smelt the rich gene-code of the Custodes master.

“I tolerate much from you Con, because of our past together, you have a rich history with me and you know me better than those who claim they do, perhaps even better than my beloved sons, with the exception of Horus maybe. Do not suppose that our friendship will stop me from punishing you”

“Then go ahead Master of Mankind” Valdor Jeered the sentence “You are no longer master of your own destiny, you are a slave to those creatures that you long ago made a pact with then turned on. You think they do not know that? You think they have forgotten how you turned on them.” Valdor spat his blood to the ground “Fight me to the death or kill me with your psychic might, it will not change anything now. What I do now I do for those that will come and those that had gone. I am not afraid of you, I never have been and I never will be”

With a roar of anger the Emperor grasped his sword and went to strike his former friend but Constantin Valdor moved his Guardian Spear up to block the incoming blow, and then countered with a blow of his own. He was no novice, he was no raw recruit, he was a warrior and he was the lord of the Custodes, he had put many a Primarch on their arses in his time and he had no qualms about fighting the Emperor if the situation dictated, this was one of them situations.

He did not mourn this fight, to his way of thinking the Emperor was already dead, killed in the warp by whatever existed in there, what was before him was not his beloved master. He landed blow after blow and received more than his fair share back, but neither man gave a quarter or an inch to the other.

The Word Bearers formed a circle; it was like observing a battle of the giants from the old Romanii games or maybe two ancient gods fighting in the heavens. This was not some easy put down fight, whenever the Blessed Emperor struck, Valdor countered and vice versa. The battle between the two men raged for hours, not one giving ground to the other and it was a fight that not one of the Word Bearers would ever forget.

However, the outcome was inevitable, the Emperor sank to his knees as exhaustion began to show on his body and Valdor knowing well that the Word Bearers would rip him to shreds given half the chance stood over his masters’ body knowing that what he must do, he must do for the good of the Imperium. He spoke no words and raised his spear ready to deal the killing blow when the Emperor moved and ran his sword through Valdors chest.

With a snarl of anger he sent a psychic charge through the sword that caused Valdor to jerk like metal caught in a lightning storm. When his body fell it was charred beyond recognition. The Emperor caught him and laid his burnt head on his lap.

“You should have trusted me old friend” he whispered, his voice heavy with grief that he now genuinely felt.

“Better – I die – then live in whatever hell – you are creating” Valdor moaned then closed his eyes and they did not open again.

The roar that erupted from the Emperors mouth was incomparable to anything a Primarch could do and it was the last time he did such a gesture, but the Crimson Lord would never forget that Valdor fought with honour, so ordered some of his men to honourably escort the body of the master of the Custodes back to their vessel, he would be given a warriors burial one that befitted his status.

The Emperor got to his feet with help from Argel Tal. “I want Malcador” He snarled “He is responsible for Valdors change of heart and I want him now, find me him!”

“Yes My Liege” Argel Tal bowed his head and once again they went on the hunt.

 

Vulkan was getting a little lost in his thoughts, so lost that he did not hear Jugathis’ approach behind him. When the Great Khan placed his hand on his brothers’ shoulder, Vulkan flinched and for a brief moment, it appeared that he was not even in this place. Jugathi again wondered what hell had invaded the Great Drakes mind. Perhaps he could use this and get Vulkan to see what he had done. However, the moment briefly passed and his dark skinned brother was himself, whatever that was, once more.

“It is good to see you again Jugathi” Vulkan smiled broadly, resting his hand on his brothers shoulders, the moment of instability not mentioned, as if it had never happened.

“That, my brother depends on what it is that you are here for and the outcome of today”

Vulkan shrugged an odd gesture for one of the Emperors sons’, he moved to the table and poured some native ale into a tankard, then drank some and made an approving noise. “Your people make Meade like no other” He complimented.

“Except maybe Russ” Jugathi corrected “So, what happened to Prospero?”

Vulkan took another swallow of Meade and poured himself another and one for Jugathi and held it out. “Magnus turned his back on our father, although father did not want Prospero destroyed, just brought to heel”

Jugathi set his tankard down “Lying does not become you”

Vulkans’ red eyes narrowed at the Great Khans’ simple statement. He set his tankard down stepped in front of his brother. Jugathi could not believe what he was seeing Vulkan was always the diplomat, always the voice to some of his other brothers more, impetuous natures and yet, here he was now facing the Great Khan like some caged beast, waiting to be unleashed. The Volcanos of the Promethium Cult burned in his eyes and his veins, and Jugathi realised that Vulkan had always been the strength of his sons, and to that end his anger and his choler, whilst kept reigned was no different to any of his brothers. He had to play this very carefully, very carefully indeed.

“Sending Angron does not validate your sentence brother, which is all I meant.” Jugathi conceded.

“Lorgar felt that it might make Prospero come to heel quicker, however our father did not want that much blood shed. He wanted the Thousand Sons to, come to him as he does all his sons and grandsons”

“Surely Vulkan you, one of the most reasoned of our brothers, can see this is not anything like how our father operates. Sending Angron was like sending Russ, overkill.” Jugathi lowered his cadence extinguishing any threat in his voice. “And Brother, since when does Lorgar speak for father? What of Constantin Valdor and more importantly Malcador?”

“Since Lorgar was appointed the new regent” Vulkan answered as if it was the most natural explanation in the world. “The Imperial Truth is gone, father has said that everything he believed was a lie, he has lived a lie and he intends to rectify that lie. Lorgar is the Pope to the Emperors ascension

“Pope? Ascension?” Jugathi was hearing those words in disbelief “Listen to yourself Vulkan, the very words you speak were words that caused so much pain and anguish on Terra millennia ago. The very tenant that the Emperor unified Terra with and founded the Legions and created us has been destroyed because Lorgar has somehow got into his head…”

“NO!” Vulkans angry shout silenced the stunned Jugathi “Father went into the warp and received his answers, answers that had been plaguing him for centuries. Lorgar had been vindicated that is all.”

Jugathi walked to his great throne and sat upon it “and you are here to what? Persuade me to give up everything I believe in and fall in line with father? You know I cannot do that Vulkan”

“I need you to listen to me Jugathi very carefully, if you do not follow the Emperors orders he will order me to do something I do not want to do”

Jugathi sat forward in his throne and cocked his head to one side “You are threatening me brother? Is this how it is now?”

Vulkan shook his head “I am merely stating a fact brother” He touched his  
head a little as the voice of his hammer urged him to strike his brother down now, take his soul and…”SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!”

Jugathi jumped and looked around to see who it was that Vulkan was shouting at. He could see no one around. Vulkan moved to one of the windows that looked out upon the villages of Chogoris. Jugathi watched him for a moment and then getting up approached him carefully.

“Vulkan, brother of the forge, please, let me help you”

When Vulkan span round he had a mask of anger and hunger on his face that caused the Great Khan to step back and he could see his brother visibly straining to not grip his hammer “Vulkan, calm your humours brother, this is my home and you are causing me dishonour, this is not the Vulkan I know and love”

Vulkan snarled a little and the sound came like some ancient dragon from the lairs below the volcanos on Nocturne. Jugathi suddenly wondered if any one of his brothers ever really knew Vulkan.

 

Amon moved quickly across the Nuclear blasted terrain. He no longer used a disguise, in this part of the world he did not need to. It would not have mattered anyway, as soon as the accursed sons of Lorgar had finished their hunt they would know one was missing and they would start the hunt anew, disguise or no disguise, they would know it was him.

He had no idea what had happened to his Commander and his friend, but he had a feeling that it was not good, these days nothing ever was. When the Emperor had stared his alterations to the doctrines of the Empire, many of the Custodes had followed him. After all he was their master and they were sworn to him and him alone. At first Valdor and Amon too had followed him but, Valdor had been with the Emperor when Vulkan had been turned to the new order. He had been haunted by the pain that had wracked the Primarch of the Salamanders face. The Emperor had seemed unmoved by his sons’ plight and that was when Valdor knew the man he had loved was gone.

He got together those he could trust and spirited Malcador away, knowing that the former Regent would be next to die, if Lorgar had his way. Lorgar was especially spiteful when it came to Malcador, he had never forgiven the Sigillite for what happened to the world of Monarchia and the day the Word was shamed. When the Emperor handed Malcadors duties to Lorgar, which was akin to ringing the executioners bell. Finally after the shaming of his sons and the destruction of Monarchia he could extract his revenge. Amon had been shocked to learn that instead of the Sigillite, he had been chosen to get the message to Horus or Gulliman. He had not wanted to leave the Regent but it had been arranged between Valdor and Malcador. His head still tingled, almost as if someone else was living in there, guiding his steps so that he avoided any of the Imperial outposts and their personnel, who un-doubly, are loyal to the Emperor.

The roads had been clear and after two and a half hours he came towards the old disused port of Alyce Springs. He recalled the stories, they had ignored the call to worship their Emperor and his brother gods, the populace had taken arms against the Emperor. The town was fairly large and there were no Hives, the homes that were here had been here for centuries. Not to mention the terrain had been known to them and their ancestors for millennia beyond millennia. They had used that ancestral knowledge to defeat the armies that had been sent to bring them to heel like wild beasts. As he made his way through the towns’ main street, he could not see a single soul, but that did not mean they were not there.

He stopped halfway up, opposite the town law enforcement office, which really looked like something out of the old days. A figure came out into the street with an old carbine rifle slung on his shoulder. He was a well-built man with a tanned complexion and his whole body spoke of attitude. He would have come up to Amons chest but even so, that did not detract from the sheer power he radiated.

“So, the Emperor sent one of his so called Lions out here to cull us? I thought you would have learnt the last time.”

Amon had not been present when the Emperor, Word Bearers and Custodes came here to attempt to cull the town, they had reaped a high tally as was expected but the locals had also reaped their own tally, and Amon knew it was only a matter of time before they were attacked again.

He removed his crested helm and shook his hair free. “I am Amon, formally of the Custodian Guard and I am here under orders from the Sigillite”

“Lorgar sent you then Well let’s hear it...wait a minute did you say former?”

“I did, and no I was referring to Malcador.”

“Malcador lives?”

“At the moment” Amon somewhat reluctantly admitted.

The man lowered his weapon and met Amon half way, he was tall and well-built but even for his height he did not overshadow the Lion before him.

“They will be hunting you”

“If they are not already” Amon added.

“I am Rafe Insolas, the sheriff here. Malcador sent word months ago that one of his men would be coming through here. Just did not expect it to be a Custodian Guard.”

“I don’t think even I would have throught that” Amon sighed “It would seem that things are moving beyond even my ken. I must reach the old station”

Rafe nodded and whistled once. Suddenly out of nowhere men and women of not just the populace but the ancient native populace appeared armed with all manners of old and new weapons. Amons senses went onto alert but he remained neutral, show any sign of aggression and whilst he had no doubt he would be able to kill these people, they would not make it easy and in truth he did not want to kill them. He had respect for them for their actions a few months ago.

“Louise, Kelan, Tommy, Margareta, and Harok, take the lone Lion here to the appointed place.” Rafe ordered and returned his attention to Amon “The old port is a few miles outside of town, you will have to traverse underground to get there friend Amon.”

“I will not leave you undefended friend Rafe” Amon gripped his guardian spear “Let me stand beside you as the enemy approaches, it would be my honour” and in truth he felt ill that he had left Malcador and Valdor to their fates.

Rafe shook his head sadly “Can’t do that Lion. When Malcador came through here he told us we were to ensure you got to the station no matter what. We will face whatever that creature is that calls itself the Emperor and fight to live or die trying. Our job is make sure you get off planet and take whatever message you have to the Prince of princes”

Amon arched an eyebrow, it was not the first time he had heard it lately. Even Valdor had called Horus by that name. It unnerved him that so many people were not looking to Horus for their salvation but, it was the most natural reaction he supposed. Horus and Sanguineous were the two most popular of the Primarchs and as the Warmaster and the favoured son of the Emperor then he supposed it was a natural course. All he could hope for was that Horus had not fallen foul to the same malady as his fallen brothers.

“You have my respect friend Rafe, they will be here soon give them, hell and - die well”

“You just reach your destination Lone Lion and we will not have died in vain”

Amon bowed his head a little and followed his escort to an old shed then down a shaft that had been widened in preparation for his arrival he suspected. He remained silent and vigilant, in case some of the Emperors spies had got here first one never knew these days who to trust and who not to trust.

Above ground the populace disappeared once more and waited for their moment in history. 

 

Malcador got up from where he was sitting and moved to the remaining Custodes side. He had sensed Valdors death and had wiped the last of his tears before returning to his protection detail. Valdor was not only the Captain-General of the Custodes, he was the prime Lion and all the Custodes stood for. With him dead then it all rested on their shoulders to ensure that Amon had that little bit more time to escape.

He did not know if that was possible now, he had sensed the Emperors psionic signature when Valdor died and whereas it had been a minor irritant, now it was just mind banging. Already the headache had started and as strong as he was, Malcador knew that, for all of his own psychic might, he would not be able to hold off the Emperor, all he could do was garner enough time to allow Amon to get out of the system before the Imperial Fists stopped him.

Hopefully the people of Alyce Springs would have done exactly as he had asked them to do several months ago and Amon would have no trouble. However, with the High Lords and the other departments in Lorgars control, even he was not one hundred per cent certain of anything.

Not anymore.

He raised his head and readied his staff “Well lads, Valdor is dead I am afraid and we may soon be joining him.” The four Custodes bowed their heads in remembrance of their beloved Captain-General “They will be here in moments so, whilst I am not one for rousing speeches, not anymore anyway……” he paused looking for the right words, he was an administrator and one who moved the chess pieces around as he had done for a myriad of years, he was not a warrior “oh what the hell, boys let’s take a few of the bastards with us”

They readied themselves and they did not have long to wait.

 

The Gal Vorbrek came loping in and stopped as they saw the four remaining Lions flanking Malcador. These men were frothing at the mouth to get to the Sigillite, after all he had insulted Lorgar and their Legion as much as that glory boy Gulliman. It was time for some revenge, however orders were orders and they remained where they were. Malcadors fate lay in the hands of the Emperor and one did not disobey a god if one wanted his or her favour later in life.

Malcador met the Crimson Lords eyes and shook his head. Argel Tal had been one of the few Word Bearers that seemed to carry honour high and he had been most respectful despite the upset over Monarchia. What had Lorgar done to his own sons was reprehensible, although the one thing he did that Malcador had agreed with was execute his own foster father. Lorgar was now showing his teeth and his claws, it was a fool who thought he was a prophet and a monk and not a warrior now.

Malcador had always thought of Lorgar as the runt of the litter, the one who whinged and whined his way through life, always looking for explanations when there were none there, now though it was different. The runt had grown up and had been vindicated by his fathers’ change of mind and heart. This was not a good place to be right now.

The Emperor came in with the Gal Vorbrek and stood across from Malcador. For the first time in years Malcador realised that this was not the man he thought he knew and this was not the man he had followed with the hope of a world behind him. There was cruelty in his eyes and any such regality had long gone. He was still a warlord of great might and power but not he truly was a god of darkness. There was the loss of Constantine Valdor still in his eyes haunting him and Malcador had a snide thought of hoping that when all this madness was ended, whatever way it played out, he hoped that it would remain a haunting memory to him.

“Well” Malcador leant on his staff “This is what it has come down to has it?”

The Emperor cocked his head to one side, giving his former Sigillite a chance to speak, it would not make any difference and he could see the remaining Custodes eyeing their quarries with all the strength such warriors possessed, he had created them and they were still a pride to him.

“The mighty Emperor who has stridden the lands since civilisation began, seeing all the many ancient places, wars and religions rise and fall, who denied any existence of divinity until now.” Malcador shook his head “Those who no longer follow your creed are to die is that what this has come down to? A tyrant, even the old tyrants of Terra were right”

“I bring enlightenment and if you knew me like you claimed you would know that. There is still time to come back with me”

Malcador chuckled dryly, “Now, now my former master, you know as well as I do the moment I step into the Imperial Palace I would disappear so. Let’s not insult each other.” The amusement vanished and he twirled his staff round “Lets this and for the record, I hope Horus rips your black heart out”

“I am the Emperor do not even threaten me Mal”

“I do not know what you are, but you are not the Emperor, not the one I knew anyway, or maybe you are, maybe your damn ego got the better of you. Enough with this tattle I know you are stalling but no longer”

With a roar the Gal Vorbrek ran into the Custodes and Malcador prepared to face the Master of Mankind.


	3. Chapter 3

Khan stepped back as the fury of his brothers assault almost took his head off. It was a myth that Primarchs could not die, look at what had happened to Magnus after all. They were not like their father, ageless, but they were immortal but, when at the hands of their brothers, anything could happen. Vulkan had struck with such sudden fury that Khan barely recognised the diplomat his brother had been, the voice of reason between two warring brothers. No, this was something else and it was attached to that other hammer he wielded. A gift from their father he had said and forged by the hands of the Gorgon.

Beautiful as it was there was something else there and that seemed to be guiding Vulkans hand. If he could get hold of that then he might be able to break the spell of whatever foul witchery was in built into the metal. Before he could do anything his bodyguard, alerted by the sounds of the Primarchs roar burst in and could barely believe their eyes. Two Primarchs, their uncle moving his hammers like they were nothing more than children’s' toys, had it not been for the fact that their father was stepping back nimbly out of the way, it would have been a lesson to have learnt. One of the Astartes raised his bolter and ordered the Great Drake to stop. Before Khan could yell out a warning to leave, Vulkan turned and more from reflex then any real desire to harm a Primarch, the shot from the Storm Bolter hit the Great Drake on hiss pauldron.

Vulkan glanced at his armour in what would have been described as almost comical had the situation not been so serious. He raised his fire eyes and beckoned the Terminator towards him.

“Nagaya NO” Jugathi shouted “All of you leave this is between Vulkan and myself!”

Vulkan however was not about to let the slight go so easily and still whirling his hammers he let his own forged weapon fly and hit Nagaya in the chest. Had it been any other Astartes then the Terminator Armour would have held, but, this was a Primarch, whereas an Astartes could rip the heads of Humans and aliens, beasts and other Astartes, they did not and could not defeat the power of a Primarch.

The Hammer struck Nagaya so hard that his armour buckled and his insides were smashed to a pulp. He sank to his knees as blood spurted from his mouth and did not stop falling. It got thicker as it fell from his lips, Vulkan was not finished yet and drawing his favoured hammer he stood before Nagaya and with the force of several hammers instead of one, he caved the Astartes head in, Khan roared a grief struck cry of denial and drew his sword.

“This is war Vulkan!”

Vulkan turned and a demonic grin crossed his face “This is the Emperors will Jugathi, bow down to it or die!”

The Khan shook his head defiantly “This is the will of madmen and monsters and I will have no part of it”

Vulkan looked down at the body of the dead Nagaya and picked his other hammer up. “Between you and I then, you win then the Salamanders will descend upon Chogoris and sear it clean, I win when you surrender your Legion and yourself to the righteous glory of our father.”

The Great Khan drew his gigantic sword and stood before his brother “The Savage Scars are no one’s slaves Vulkan, the sons of Chogoris will avenge whatever happens here today. You are not the brother I loved and the Emperors will is a sham.”

The same mad smile stayed on the onyx skin of the Great Drake “I was hoping you would say that” and hefted his hammers.

 

Malcador watched the last of the Custodes fall and yet they had reaped a toll upon the Word Bearers. Bodies lay across the desert sands and some had been put there by the ‘weakling’ that was Malcador. He turned to face the Emperor and the remaining Word Bearers moved backwards as the Master of Mankind stood in their centre. Malcador met him halfway, his staff quivering with his own powerful psyche.

“Mal, you should have stayed away” The Emperor began “You should have remained in hiding; you might have walked away from this”

“Into what?” Malcador asked “A world of war, blood and thirsting gods?”

“Is this what you poisoned Constantins’ mind with?”

Malcador laughed a little “You did that, you needed no help from me, brother”

Xaphen glanced at the Crimson Lord and across their private vox he spoke ++ the heretic speaks blasphemy and disrespect to our Master, are we to let this continue? ++

The Crimson Lord nodded ++It is the Emperors will to deal with Malcador, I however am more interested into why Amon has not been seen ++

++ Argel, he called the Emperor Brother, as if he is allowed ++

The Crimson Lord turned his head to face his friend ++ for all we know they might be, we know so little about The Emperor and Malcadors’ pasts’ ++

The Emperor cocked his head to one side “So, you remember?”

Malcador nodded “Of course I remember, I thought you had changed, mayhaps the years of immortality had finally shown you the error of your youth.” Malcador looked around him “You destroyed Religion because of what you had seen. The destruction faith had in the past caused many people and governing bodies. When mother told you that you had a destiny I do not think this is what she had in mind,” Malcador leant on his staff “Does the mark still hurt you?”

“Hush”

“No, no I suppose not, you have passed it on that is all.” Malcador shifted a little “Let’s see, your sons are not from a woman but from a lab, like a bunch of lab rats. So eager to prove to the being you destroyed that you were more than he was. So let us see which ones carry that ancient curse…Lorgar Aurelian? Hmm yes he would have had the piety you had once so, it is fair to say that he is like you more than you even cared to admit.

How about Dorn? No despite his fall Dorn has always been a Praetorian, a  
champion so that would not be right. Horus Lupercal? Well he is your favourite even despite the given times but he is not so easily swayed. I could go on really but the sons that seem to bear your mark, the curse of the original mark…well that would be Curze and Angron. Murder and violence are their natures, aren’t they brother?”

“Enough Malcador, come with me and surrender to my will or die”

Malcador thought for a moment and shrugged “It won’t be the first time, will it” He twisted his staff “Let’s do this oh and all that talk of redemption….forget it, it’s gone. The world we were born into, the world we saw change at varying stages….what it will be now is the darkness that was in your soul the moment you were born”

The Emperor roared and charged with his sword, Malcador focused his power and through his staff unleashed the psychic might that was his to command. The Emperor stumbled a little, still weak from his fight with Valdor but not so weak that he couldn’t deal with whatever Malcador threw at him.

The Word Bearers watched as the so believed frailty of Malcador seemed to disperse, a bright light shone around him, and for a moment, the briefest of moments really it looked like Malcador was a younger man and the image of the Emperor. He had an athletic build, not the strong build of the Emperor and his blue eyes blazed with the fury of the elements within him.

The two were joined in battle and the halo seemed to encompass them both and now both men appeared different. That is the way it was when you looked at the Emperor, he could appear to be different things to others, depending on how they saw him. But right now and Argel Tal would swear till his dying die that this was so, they looked like a shepherd and a hunter fighting each other.

Something from a time long forgotten and it almost sounded like a story that Lorgar had once told Argel although the context escaped him now, something to do with mankind anyway. What was obvious was that they were cursing and shouting at each other in a language that had long since died. Malcador defiantly appeared younger and his physic might lash at the Emperor like some electrical storm. The Emperor, well he looked to be a little older then

Malcador, which was no surprise, and yet the hate in his face was magnified when Malcadors psychic will struck him.

>

> Malcador snarled and brought his staff around to smash the Emperors head in the side > Malcador seethed, it was wearing on him now, he never would win this but for each moment he stopped the Emperor gave Amon more time to get away.

>

>

>

> the younger visage grinned despite his growing pain >

The Emperor sneered and with a swipe of his sword he broke the staff in two and gripped Malcador by the throat. Like some great vampire he drew all the psychic might from Malcador into his own body, he drained the very life force from the former Sigillite until the skin sloughed from the bones burning as it fell and the bones crumbled to dust in his hands. He stepped back and looked at the remains before the winds blew them across the desert.

He knew now why the Sigillite had stayed behind, why he had acted as he had. “Argel”

The Crimson Lord stepped to his Gods side and moved to one knee his head bowed “Master”

“Do you know if there are any Templars in the area?”

“I know that they use the land as training and recruiting.”

“Order them here, tell them I want them to meet us here, it is time to right an old wrong and destroy any more doubters of my new creed. I want them here within the hour, we head to Alyce Springs” The fire was in his eyes now “Amon is there somewhere”

The Crimson Lord rose to his feet and bowed his head and relayed the order whilst the Emperor stared at the ashes as they vanished. 

 

He stood on the battlements of the Imperial Palace. His thoughts were lost in the whirling winds high atop the Himalasia peaks. What was left of them at any rate, as a young man he had been told that these peaks were the roof of the world in ancient days, part of him mourned that legacy. His father had changed, gone were the days when a brother would be punished for harming another brother, he too felt those changes.

He had always been so focused, planned ahead and was cautious; now, now the drive to bring the order of the Emperor was getting stronger and stronger. He had thought to temper the zealot of his brother Lorgar and yet, when he had given Sigismund command over the Black Templars, their days of training within the great Cathedral that stood upon the remains of an ancient mount in a land that a long time ago been named the Holy Land had made them just as zealous if not more so than their cousins in the Word Bearers.

Their armour had been painted black and with white crux’s, Sigismund’s own heraldry and they had taken the vow to bring all the worlds of the Imperium to the new order. He was proud of his sons and the fact that the Emperor himself had named Sigismund as his own champion. When Lorgar had become the Black Pope well that made more powerful than even Horus.

Horus.

His thoughts turned to one of his closest brothers. Horus would never agree to this, ever. Already there was talk of people trying to get the Warmaster to come to their aid against the new order. He found that strangely ironic. For years people had been clamouring for the Emperor to accept his true place, as a god of Mankind and, ironically that had been aided by the once outlawed Lectio Divinatus which now was one of the centre pieces of the Imperial Creed. He knew deep down that Horus would eventually come and when he did, well he did not want to think about what would happen.

Lorgar had foreseen this but, as Lorgar stated had Angron not tried to tear Magnus into little tiny broken pieces, they might have managed to get round to convincing Horus and the others. However in the golden giants’ eyes it was not just Angron. Curze had antagonised The Lord of Macragge and the Lion had pissed off the Comrade. There would be civil war and all he could hope for was that Vulkan, one of their most level headed brothers, would persuade the Great Khan that this was for the best.

Rogal Dorn turned and returned to his Fists, they had work to do the Phalanx was going to be away for a while. None of those entities within the warp that his father called Brother now had managed to get a grip on him. He was his own master and needed nothing from them. He followed his father because he believed his father was right.

Still the thought that Horus would come eventually, that bothered him, more then it bothered the others, and he could not shake the idea that when Horus did come, it would change everything beyond repair. 

 

Jugathi ducked as the twin hammers whirled above his head, the rush of air from them both making his top knot sway a little. Had he not been so quick on his feet, he might have one hell of a headache right now. All he could think was getting that hammer in Vulkans left hand out of his reach; maybe he could reach him and talk sense into him.

Even though he had lost a son to the now enraged Primarch and his grief was starting to make him yearn to fight back, he did not want to believe that his brother was capable of such unrestrained violence. It was like looking at Angron or Curze, even his beloved brother Russ and this was not Vulkan. His Salamanders fought with the strength of the fires in their hearts but not out and out violence like this, but even his good intentions at attempting to reach his brother were beginning to wear thin. He had to start fighting back. If he did not then Vulkan would kill him eventually and destroy his world.

And that would not do, he would not let that happen no matter if his blood was spilt on these halls he would not allow his world to die like Prospero. He would not allow his brave Warriors, his brave men and women of the Mundus Plains to fall into slavery of a false god. With the thought of what could happen to his beloved Scars and his people he roared defiance and went on the attack.

Whilst demi-gods fought within the sacred bowels of the Monastery, outside the world was aflame with fire and bolters, swords and other weapons. The Salamanders had come to the world of Chogoris and with it had come death.

People ran screaming as the green armoured warriors moved amongst the market place not caring where they trod what they destroyed. Warriors of the sands bravely tried to stop the advance but they were cut in half by ordered Bolter Fire and hellfire incinerators. Jubal Khan, incensed that the sons of fire had broken the agreement to let their fathers duke it out, ordered his company to charge into the fray and in his words “Wipe these murderous bastards off our home world”

Singh came to the side of his fellow captain and opened a private vox

++Where the hell did they come from Jubal? ++

++ Hidden from our sensors and auspex’s I should think little brother, it matters not how they got here at the moment, all that matters is that they are here and they will learn, whilst on Nocturne they rule, here they do not ++

++ Someone should be with father ++

++ No, Jugathi will not forgive us if we leave the populace to the mercy of these traitors, ++

Singh rested his gauntlet on the first Captains armour his voice suddenly became heavy with seriousness ++ Jubal, what if they manage to get into the heart of the Monastery, they could destroy all that we are, ++

Jubal thought for a moment, the Second Captain was correct. If the Salamanders got into the heart of the Monastery where the novitiates were training then the chapter could die.

++ Take the second and tenth Companies and join up with the fourteenth and the twenty-third, you are all closest to the Monastery, protect our initiates brother and if needs be… ++ he paused his words heavy with what he was going to say, in the absence of the Primarch he was the voice of the father  
++ If it looks as though our world is lost you get them and as much of our gene-seed away from here. ++

The weight of what the First Captain was asking him sat on the younger Second Captains shoulders heavily. He was aghast at the thought of running but he also understood the honour that he was given. Protecting the future of the Legion was paramount and with a salute he turned to leave.

“Noray”

He turned to see Jubal had removed his helm and removed his “Jubal?”

“Do what you have to, hopefully we will turn this rabble away but if not…..” he let his voice trail.

Singh clasped his First Captains arm and held it tight “It shall be done My Lord”

With that said he went about doing as the First Captain ordered and Jubal headed into the fray with the warriors of First Company behind him.

 

He stood alone, the Word Bearers watched for the Black Templars to arrive whilst Xaphen and his retinue searched the hidden base of the runaways for anything that might explain why they would willingly die rather than give their souls to their master.

Argel Tal cleared his throat and moved to one knee before the Emperor. The Emperor bid him rise and asked him what he wanted without speaking it. The Crimson Lord kept his eyes lowered, one did not look a god in the eyes, but then it was difficult to look upon the Emperor without having his eyes seared by the beauty of the man and his power.

“I heard what Malcador was saying to you Lord,” The Emperor arched an eyebrow “When I came to Terra I leant the ancient languages more as a hobby, more so that I could read the ancient books in order to best serve my father and my grandfather”

“The others?” The Emperor asked, his gaze flickering to where the rest of the Gal Vorbrek stood.

“No my Master I just wanted to know if this was true what Malcador had said”

The Emperor was silent for a long time and then with a motion of his head instructed Tal to walk with him and away from the rest of the Word Bearers. When they were a slight distance away the Emperor sighed heavily.

“What Malcador said was true, in essence” He began “I was born at the dawn of mankind and I was punished by a god for favouring me over my brother. I had murdered my brother and for that I was cast out of society, banished from civilisation and forced to walk the earth with a mark on my back that signified me as a murderer”

Argel-Tal sat himself down as the Emperor bid him to sit beside him and waited as he realised that he was going to hear the one story that no one, not even his own father had heard and the honour in his chest was like a tidal wave.

“So, I travelled the world, as the centuries came down I stayed hidden away as much as I could, lest I bring the wrath of God upon my head for daring to try and live a normal life. I had sons and daughters, all of whom died young, or went onto greater things, but ultimately I was left alone. I was the eldest and therefore I worked night and day to ensure that the offerings to God were perfect, more perfect then my parents and I could ever hope to achieve.

Along came my brother and things changed. His sacrifice was accepted mine was not and so I killed him, an act that I regretted over time. At first I was angry, I bore a mark that made me hard to kill, what I did not know then was that this mark would serve me for all eternity, enable me to live longer than any human and, in time, grant me the powers I possess to run the Imperium and of course the Astronomican.

I tried to get men to kill me but they would not for fear of what would happen to them. So I wandered the earth, seeking for a way to atone for my brothers' death, eventually the meaning of time became nothing to me. I saw the ancient civilisations rise and ultimately fall, empires rise and am destroyed from within and during those long years I sought out the reincarnation of my brother. I found him as a revered healer and god speaker, only he was called Malcador then and whilst I knew who he was, he feigned ignorance but still, it was my duty as his older brother to look after him.

In those years I came to see how cruel the gods could be. Imagine Argel-Tal realising after thousands of years that gods were cruel as well as just. They would play games with mankind, inciting them into wars that they had no concept off. Wars were started because of ignorance of religion and I saw them for what they were.

They were petty and they argued like children, in that way they had their followers condemn each other and kill each other in their name. My former master condemned me for murdering my brother then had his own son murdered to save mankind” The Emperor gave the awe struck Astartes a sideways look and uttered a cynical laugh “Can you not see how ironic that is my grandson?”

The Crimson Lord nodded. Indeed he could, when mankind murdered it was a sin, when a god murdered it was divine retribution, to his grandfather that must have been the ultimate slap in the face. In his experience many worlds had the creation story and the story of the first fratricide, different names, different telling’s but ultimately the same story, as if it were genetically encoded within each human being and each culture to warn their peoples how the ancients punished those who dared lie to them. He did not answer for fear of losing this moment between Grandfather and Grandson, to be allowed into the long private world of the Emperor was indeed a rare occasion and, there were those who believed that he did not remember his past. It was obvious he did remember he just saw it as inconsequential now.

The Emperor ran a hand down his face and for the first time, the Crimson Lord saw how his grandfathers' own humanity had never really left him. In fact in that moment he looked more human than even a human who was not so blessed with his powers and his longevity.

“My powers had surfaced when I was still a young man but they had reached their peak when I was living in Roma. So when I found Malcador I spoke with him at great length about the rights of gods and god. All we could see around us was death and destruction, Popes fat with corruption condemning the normal working man and woman, nobles and Kings raping the lands and the purses of the peasantry all for the coffers of the church.

I decided that mankind was better off without God, when I was a child God was the power and the law, we did what we did to please the great creator. We were fearful of his wrath and after watching what his wrath did to two ancient cities for their sin and an ancient king for holding his children as slaves I could see now why the sins of my parents were miniscule compared to this.”

He was warming to his lesson, he was telling a favoured Grandson a story that not even his sons knew nor did any other of his thousands of grandsons, this was like a private moment between The Emperor and a Grandson that had proved his worth in hearing such a tale.

“I no longer wanted gods to have the power over humankind and Malcador was with me. Together we cleansed the world of the taint of religion and the depravity of corrupt rulers.”

Argel-Tal frowned a little, if this was the case then why did the master of mankind return to the ways of his childhood. As if reading his mind, the Emperor spoke again.

“You wonder why I have reverted to this path once more. I shall tell you last Angel and this is for your ears only, swear your oath to me that this story I have told you will never be repeated.”

“I swear My Lord”

Satisfied with the sincerity in his voice the Emperor began his conclusion. “Humanity needs something to lead them into an enlightened future, a future where there are the undisputed masters of the universe and, I could no longer ignore the cries of the masses nor could I ignore the mistakes of the past.  
I took a journey into the webway and there I got my answers, much like your father got his answers within the warp itself, the same place that you found your – abilities shall we say. I saw the past, the present and the future as well as a myriad of other realities and futures.

It was my destiny to be the man I was born, written from my parents first sins and it was my destiny to become the master of mankind, but, they showed me that I could be the one thing that I had in my ignorance denied. I had been battling God for so many centuries and finally I had destroyed him by destroying his faith and his belief, my grandson that is the greatest lesson.

A god is only a god as long as the faith and the belief fuel it. Out of the old gods that inhabited the universe the four that still remain are the products of emotions, human and Eldar it would seem. To create my sons I needed help. I had to do what I had to do to ensure that the worlds of Humans would be masters of the universes, I thought I could deny what I was but I cannot, I am a god killer that is what history would paint me as if they knew the entire truth, but I am what I am, I am an ancient warrior who has been shunned by his childhood god for actions he caused.

Malcador was right in the fact that I rebelled and reverted to what I had been as a young man. But I had to use everything I had learnt from my years as a farmer and a nomad and if that made me as he put it revert to my earlier youth then it was what was needed. Malcador was wrong when he said that the darkness that had been in my soul always had changed me.

What changed me were the will of my people and the will of my sons. I alone can ensure that the four who reside within the warp do not dominate the hearts of men. If I had to become a god to do that then so be it, I will become a god, but I will not be like the gods of the past. My rule will be law, my powers will light the way for the mankind to reach to the stars and as was shown me in the warp. Do I want any of my sons to die? Of course I do not but I have to do this my way and if that means that sacrifices must be made then so be it. In order for mankind to survive I will do what must be done by my will and my will alone.

If Malcador wants to call it murder then so is it I call it survival of the fittest and only those of my sons who are prepared to go that extra mile to ensure that my Imperium endures will be the ones who remain by my side.”

“Will he return do you think?”

The Emperor smiled a wry smile “It is our curse last Angel, I have no nemesis except my brother, I tried to make him understand, but he could not see the bigger picture. I am a god whether I wanted to be or not, better I be a god that must do what must be done, then one who just wants sheep. I want warrior sons and warrior daughters to do what must be done, not sheep. My power was unwittingly given to me by a god who thought I would just fade away into nothing, become a nightmare creature that mothers warned their children about, one that would become the haunter of their nightmares if they did not behave….does this sound familiar?”

The Crimson Lord chuckled a little. It sounded like the exact tales that the mothers of children on Nostramo would tell their children about the Night Haunter.

“Those who serve me and build our empire will benefit, those who do not…..” he let his voice trail off and The Crimson Lord did not need to know anything else. The beast within his soul stirred at the words this immortal had spoken.

For the first time since he was born, the first time since Erebus had come to speak with his mother Argel-Tal felt purpose stir in his soul once more. His God had shared with him a treasured secret and he would never repeat it not even to his beloved father. He had no recollection of his grandparents on Colchis and this was like a fleeting memory of what he had hoped had occurred when he was a toddler, he had hoped that his grandfather or grandmother had told him such secrets knowing he would not be able to repeat it.

“Do not betray my trust in you Tal” The Emperor warned “I have little of it now”

“You can count on me My Master” The Emperor nodded and waited as The Crimson Lord received a vox transmission “Sigismund is here Master”

“Good, time to stop Amon I am not ready for Horus to find out everything just yet”

“Chances are he already knows some of it” The Crimson Lord warned as they made their way back towards the Word Bearers and the newly arrived Black Templars, all of whom looked upon Argel-Tal with envious eyes. “With what befell Prospero and Magnus”

“True, but he cannot just get here in a matter of months. I will be prepared”

“He will not join you? He is your favoured son”

“He is too much like his Uncle.” The Emperor looked elsewhere and felt the wind that had carried Malcadors ashes away “He will not understand that Humanity needs me to be divine in order to endure. Admirable but ultimately foolish”

The Emperor said no more and with the Crimson Lord re-joined the Astartes, after telling them what he wanted they moved out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The idea I had whilst writing this segment was one that came to me at the start of the Emperors Will. I took the ancient story of Cain and Abel and changed it to fit into here. The Emperor is ageless and whilst there are many stories surrounding his conception I thought this might be a nice twist.  
> >


	4. Chapter 4

The Pyre Guard emerged from the wall of smoke that was all that remained of the market square. Jubal and the rest of the Riders of Talskar, the Elite First Company, readied themselves but, even though they were the best of the Scars, even the sight of the elite Pyre Guard made them stop in their tracks.

With their Terminator armour making them bigger than their battle brothers, with their eye lenses looking like the fires of Nocturnes deepest pyres, they did indeed look like something out of hell. It was then that Jubal saw the symbol that had been painted on their left Pauldron, a gold eight pointed star encased in a ring of fire.

Whatever that meant, to look upon it made even the hard shelled stoic First Captain feel sick to the stomach and that meant that it had nothing to do with the honour of the Imperial Truth, nothing that could affect a man like this could ever have anything to do with the Imperial Truth. With a shout to his company the two First Companies clashed. Their weapons ringing out and the roars of flamers coupled with the loud devastating explosive blasts of Bolters tearing against re-enforced ceramite armour made it a killing field.

++++

In Jugathis’ private rooms the two behemoths still battled it out, neither Primarch tired and neither showed any signs of doing so. For every blow that Vulkan landed, Jugathi landed one that was equally jaw breaking. Wounds that would have killed a normal man and even an Astartes began to clot and close and yet, the chambers not only had the stench of death in the air from the shattered corpse that had been Nagoya, but also the rich gene-coded blood that was the Emperors sons flooded the air.

Jugathi grunted and brought his sword up to block the blows from his brothers’ hammers. The tremor from the blows reverberated up his arms and for the first time, the Great Khan got to see just how strong the usually reserved Vulkan was. His strength was never in question, but as father of one of the smallest Legions’, nobody seemed to really pay him much attention as they would Russ, Sanguineous, Dorn or Horus and Gulliman. Vulkan was like himself and Corax, overshadowed by their more glory hound brothers.

Jugathi could hear the shouts outside as the Salamanders cut their murderous swathe through Khans world. He could hear his First Captains rallying cry over his internal vox set, he could hear his sons victory cries and their death cries, and it fuelled his anger.

“You will not,” He said through gritted teeth “Leave here alive Vulkan,”

Vulkan did not seem to hear him, or maybe he was too lost in the battle mist that had descended upon him, his only action was to carry on and pummel the Great Khan into submission. If he killed him the Emperor would not forgive him, and he had no wish to be like Angron after facing their fathers’ wrath.

However it wouldn’t matter if he beat him a little. The Emperor could use the Scars and their skills with the jet bikes, there was no other legion that could use those bikes like they could and the Emperor did not want them with Horus.

His hammers continued to aim blow after blow on the Great Khan, until Jugathi saw his break, as Vulkan raised his arm once more, Jugathi waited, then with a strength born from his injuries and the need to deny his father’s plan he grabbed Vulkans wrists and pulled himself up. He head butted his brother and made the Great Drake stagger back and drop his hammers, his hands moving to his face in a reflex action. It was not the greatest of moves but it was one that Russ had taught him in their friendly spars, if sparring with the Wolf King could be anything but friendly.

He gripped his sword and as Vulkan began to orientate himself he ran it through his brother. The razor sharp edge cut through the armour of the Great Drake and into his gene-wrought skin, straight into his main heart. Vulkan howled with pain the likes of which he had never felt before and fell to his knees; his hand gripped the demon hammer that Ferrus had forged for him.

His blood dripped off the sword as Jugathi pulled it back and before the Khan could strike again, he flung it round in a desperate strike, whether it was planned or not the hammer connected with his brothers’ armour and sent the Great Khan flying back into the wall and through it.

Vulkan knew that the damage done to him would be fatal he needed to be with his father, he would know how to heal him, no one else could, his secondary heart would suffice for now.

++ Heka’tan, prepare to withdraw ++

++ My lord – are you harmed? ++

++ Nothing that will kill me, withdraw but first I want you to take the best of 14th and destroy their gene pool ++

The 14th Captain was silent for a moment and then said ++ we could take some for ourselves Lord gene-seed is gene-seed after all++

++Very well, have Luminor sort that out and UGH++

++My Lord? MY LORD! ++

Vulkans cry echoed around every Salamanders vox and they began to fight their way towards the citadel, fear pounding in their hearts that their father could be dead. A dread began to wash over the Salamanders, without their father they would be at the mercy of the savages and the Great Khan was not known for his tolerance of betrayal.

Vulkan looked down as Khans’ sword protruded from his chest, his life blood dripping in great gene rich droplets that had started to pool around him.

“I told you, you will not leave here alive Vulkan” Khan hissed, his own demi-god body reaching the end of its endurance, his own wounds making it hard for him to barely stand. Vulkans hammer had smashed much of his ribcage and damaged his internal organs.

Vulkan dropped his hammer as the last of his strength gave out. Khan staggered against the wall as his bodyguard finally came in led by Captain Singh.

“My lord…”

Khan raised his hand to fall stall any attempt at aid “Get them off my world; I don’t care if you have to kill them all just get them off my world. This is not over yet”

Singh did not need telling twice and with the bodyguard led the repulsion actions to get the Salamanders off his world. Jugathi sank to his knees beside his brother and looked at him for a long time.

He could not, would not believe that Vulkan, one of the most quietest and stalwart brothers he had ever had the pleasure to serve alongside off in better times, was that, that visage of a monster that had been attacking him like something from Nocturne and even Chogoris legends.

He glanced at the hammer that was lying beside his hollow breathing brother. It was an exquisite weapon and only Ferrus could have produced such a marvel of weaponry, but what else was in it he wondered? Vulkan had been talking to the weapon, telling it to shut up.

“Lord Khan”

He looked up to see a battered and bloody Numeon limp in behind an equally bloody Jubal. Khan knew what they had come for and he moved the hammer away from his brothers’ reach.

“I should execute you all” he seethed “But there have been enough deaths this day. Take your father and know this, there will come a time when we will meet again and this will be settled then. I will not be the reason my brother is dead. I suggest you get him to his father” Khan narrowed his eyes, his presence intimidating enough to stall any bravado in the Salamanders eyes “And give this message to Lorgar for me Numeon of the Pyre Guard. He will not find me so easy to turn”

With a jerk off his head the Pyre Guard that still lived came to their fathers’ side and lifted him gently, Numeon looked at the hammers. Khan picked only the one that Vulkan had forged up and placed it on his brothers’ chest. The other he left on the floor and Numeon was not man enough to argue with a Primarch.

Singh watched as the Apothecaries saw to his father’s wounds. He would heal that much they were certain off, but it would be a while before Jugathi Khan could take to the field of battle again. Jubal stood beside him and both men laughed a deep belly laugh as the Great Khan roared at his Apothecaries to leave him be and see to the wounded.

The battle for the safety of the Gene-seed had been surprisingly easy and some of the novitiates that had defended the serfs and the adepts were being raised to full Astartes. The 14th company of the Salamanders had all but surrendered when Singh and his men arrived. The Second Captain had thought it was the sound of Vulkans defeat that had demoralised them.

He was not surprised, had he heard that groan from his father he would have been demoralised too. They entered the Apothecium and stood by their fathers’ side. A frown still sat on the Talskar lords’ brow, almost as if he was not happy at the outcome.

Jubal assured him that the hammer that had been wielded by his brother was locked away safely in the vaults until someone from the Thousand Sons could get here and examine it. Still something rattled at Khan. The Salamanders were not known for backing down, instead upon hearing the words of their father they would have continued fighting to get him to safety and kill everything in their way, not surrender.

“They knew you would let them return with Vulkan, that you are not Angron and would not kill your brother, no matter what you said” Jubal told him “The Great Khan is not a brother killer”

The Explosion ripped up from the Novitiate chambers and straight through the Palace of Quan Zhou….

 

Amon allowed the humans their rest. He stood guard over them and watched the tunnel they had come down. He did not know how old they were but he suspected they were about half a century no more. The wooden structure that held the earth tightly back always seemed to threaten cave in but, despite its flimsy appearance it was stronger than it appeared.

He marvelled at the craftsmanship of the Humans who had built this old mine walkway. One of the group, the woman by the name of Louise was of mixed white and Aborigine heritage, she seemed to be the de-facto leader of the humans and she certainly knew where she was going. For several twists and turns on their way in she and the man called Tommy had double backed, covered the main tracks and then led the scent off to somewhere else.

Amon had seen this before and his admiration for the people he travelled with grew. Not only did they successfully cover their own tracks, but in order to confuse the evitable pursuers, they had taken pains to appear their tracks had gone in a different direction. At one point they had borrowed his boots, measured his stride by eyesight only and made it appear that he had gone another way.

He did not know if it would work those once Astartes of the Gal Vorbrek would probably scent the true path, but it was worth a try. Whilst the Humans rested and spoke amongst themselves, he could not help but notice the sideways looks they gave him, and the untrusting light in their eyes. He did not blame them for that, with all things considered, if he were them, he would not have trusted him either.

He cleared his throat a little making them turn to face him “I was not here when my – the Custodes and Black Templars attacked. Did any of you lose anyone?”

Louise chewed on some bread and cheese that had been brought along. Amon had politely refused it when it was offered him. “Margareta lost her brother to a Word Bearer, Kelan, well he lost his entire Family to the Black Templars, and they came in and shot them all in front of him before he could get away.

Tommy was not at home when then Emperor called on our town; he was on his ancient rites of passage, he lost his family too and Harok, well he has no family but he lost friends.”

“And you?” Amon had seen the gold band on her finger.

Louise glanced at her ring and remained silent for a moment then, hiding her hand she shrugged “Same as others, I lost people too”

Amon had worked out that she was the defacto leader of the group. No one else would talk to him and it seemed to him that as long as he wore his armour, he would remind them of all that they had lost and all that they were going to lose.

“Where were you when the Lions, Templars and demons came following the murdering whoreson we all called Emperor?” Louise asked bluntly.

If it had been any other time, then she would have uttered her death sentence. On other worlds conquered by the Primarchs, there was Leniency because the circumstances of losing their worlds histories was a great trauma, as he believed humans understood it. This world however was Terra, the cradle of mankind where the master of mankind was the law and his rule was the law of thumb, which was not to say he had not been just but now…now Amon was lost in a way.

If it had been a Primarch gone crazy, one like Horus or even Gulliman or Sanguineous then he might have been able to piece it together with a detachment that separated him from the Astartes brotherhoods. Not this though, he had been doing his annual Blood Games, not only the tradition of attempting to breach the inner sanctums of the Imperial Palace. When he returned Constantin had told him what had occurred here at Alyce Springs, and that both he and Malcador had wanted to speak with him.

The rest as they say was history. In the space of a few months, his whole reason for existing had gone out the window. Louise saw him walk away and turn his guardian spear over. His badge of office was now a badge of destruction and murder. Getting up the woman walked over to where he had took up his post and sat across from him.

“You didn’t kill those people Lion….”

“Do not call me that!” He suddenly said venomously “The Custodes are gone, they are not what they once were”

“Of course they are” She angrily retorted “As long as you still live then what they were still exists, when your life span ends then perhaps, perhaps then they will become what the majority of your brothers are now.”

Amon was stunned into silence, no mortal had ever spoken to him like this before – and lived. She ran her hand through her brown hair “I lost my husband and my parents to the Custodes who followed the orders of the demon Emperor.”

“Wait, demon Emperor?” Amon frowned.

“I have heard tales of what the Emperor did to unite humanity, malevolent or benevolent, times were different then but this, never have I ever heard any tales of him doing this and now when I watch the vid casts or listen to the vox casts, I see cathedrals being built all over the planet and hear the mass words spoken by those appointed by the Black Pope. So what would you call your former master?” She glanced back at her companions “Like it or not you are the last Lion of the true Custodes and, like it or not, we are to make sure that you get whatever you have been given to the rightful place, even if it means us dying” She got back up “You are Terra’s last hope Amon of the Custodes, you are the one man that can reach Horus so, brush you mane, sharpen your teeth and roar, we have faith in you to do what you have been ordered to do because if you do not, then someone better switch the light off, the Terra that we all know and love will be in an age of darkness.”

He watched her return to her friends and thought for a moment or two. A wry smile crossed his face and he might have started laughing at the fact that he had just been put in his place by a human woman, something that he did not  
ever remember happening since his mother did it when he was a boy, and the vague recollections he had of that were him scurrying away. However before he could even make a sound the sound of Bolter fire and explosions rocked the old mine shaft and ground.

“We have to go” Louise called.

He nodded “I will bring up the rear, go and I will follow”

None of them needed telling twice, picking up what little they had they began to run, Amon was right behind them and he knew that time was short now for once the aggressors had finished with the town and its inhabitants, they would come for them.

 

The screams of the human serfs and workers within the ruined monastery of the White Scars could still be heard over the falling masonry and rubble. There were pleas for help, cries for parents or loved ones and then there were those whose cries fell silent after a moment or two.

Captain Angsar Haren of the 19th Company was aiding in the rescue efforts, not even thinking about what might have happened in the Apothecium but just concentrating on finding anyone alive, and right now he did not care if they were Novitiate, serf or Astartes, as long as he found them alive. He had ordered a vox silence, he was scanning the rubble for signs of life, but the silence was so that he might be able to hear a heartbeat or a cry or something that might aid him and his squad.

He had been out in the training courtyard when the explosion had rocked the mighty citadel. The Salamanders had left one last defiant gesture to the White Scars, and the message was clear, if you are not going to side with the Emperor, then you will not be able to aid Horus either. He had picked himself off the ground and got together as many of his men as he could find as well as the Scouts that had been raised into his company.

One such scout was now Battle Brother Yan Shan; he had shown promise in his two decades as a scout, so much so that when Haren had been asked to take him into his company, he had only been too pleased too. Shan was from one of the ancient mountain clans that had sided with Jugathi Khan during the forging. His senses were unerringly accurate as were his scouting skills, and that was even before the enhancements of the Gene-Seed had taken hold of him.

He was not as big as some of his other battle brothers, but the kid had a wiry strength to him and right now his senses were coming in helpful. With Shans acute hearing he had managed to find some Novitiates and two Apothecaries’, Brother Klien, one on of the Terran born sons of Khan and Brother Jaziar. They were unharmed and had immediately set to work making a make shift medical area in the forecourt of the Palace.

Shan now turned to his Captain and pointed in the direction of what had been the cells of the novitiates’.

“I do not think we are going to like what is there Captain,”

“Oh?”

“Can’t you smell it?”

At first Haren could smell nothing except the acrid tang of explosive and fire, some of which had not yet been put out, but, after he filtered them out and turned to the direction that Shan had pointed, he smelt it then. It was a foul disgusting smell and it made him want to heave his stomach contents and he had been on the receiving end of Ork Shit once or twice in his service. This odour made that time smell like a feast day in his home clan.

The odour was not just burnt human flesh, which reminded him of overcooked Boar, the fat would have made it impossible to see had it not been for his helm, and no there were other odours too. He voxed for Brother Ong to come and join him, The Apothecary was there within moments, his bare face as ever, stoic and unemotional, until now. His black hair was tied into a top knot like his Captain, and like his captain, his long Moustache was beaded and braided.

They inched forward and after several moments with Shans’ help, they managed to move some of the fallen stonework and stared at the Charnel house within. Burnt human bodies lay next to the dead remains of novitiates’ who had been trying to save them, more likely when the initial attack had begun. Shan and Haren heard the Apothecary sigh and then uttered a curse as he saw the other bodies.

Shans light swung round to see two green armoured warriors, laying dead by the central pillar, “Bastards” He swore “Those murderous bastards”

Haren let him have his moment of anger; it would fuel him in the days to come. He made his way over to the bodies and saw the bolter rounds, and then he saw the body of Captain Zhan, 29th Company commander and his own blood Cousin. He bowed his head and clenched his fists. He had obviously seen the terrorists before they could escape and, with the scouts and novitiates’ that lay dead with him ended their miserable traitorous existence.

But there as another stench here, something foul, something that had made him want to be very sick in the first place. There was no real word he could find to describe it but, it was nothing of this world. He heard Shan cry out a warning and let loose a hail of bolter fire at the two dead Salamanders that were now starting to rise. He drew his own bolter and fired point blank into their faces but that did not seem to stop them.

The smell from their bodies was like some rotting Vultures meal, he could hear the swam of flies that seemed to emit from their wounds and infest the other bodies, He roared for his men to form up on his location and the last words he spoke before his voice was lost in the sound of gunfire and groans chilled his bones.

++ UNDEAD! ++


	5. Chapter 5

Vox Officer Racheal Corenza frowned a little and asked for a repeat of the message she was receiving, but even as she transcribed it, she could not believe what she was hearing. Astropaths from the entire sector of the Ultimar Segmentum were relaying the news to every vessel that belonged to the Horus Rebellion.

She felt beads of sweat sting her brow and clearing her throat she called the Master of the Fleet over, a man by the name of Krae Oskata, he had been master of the Fleet for a good three or four decades and even now, despite the ravages of space born battles he had led the 140th expeditionary fleet to much glory. She had never been more prouder of her career when she was given the role of Master of Vox of the Conclave of Blood, the capital vessel of the IXth Legion themselves, and not just because Chapter Master Raldoran made this his home away from home, but someone else too.

Oskata read what she had transcribed and his face paled a little, being that he was naturally pale anyway, what he was reading made him look like a living ghost. He glanced at Corenza and arched an eyebrow, his gaze spoke volumes  
and she nodded.

“Confirmed, My Lord” She whispered.

Heaving a sigh Oskata raised his glance to the Stratagem above him and the two big Sanguinary Guard Terminators who stood either side of the vast doors. Stoic and immobile, but beneath that slow veneer were warriors who would react to any threat to the being behind those doors at a moment’s notice. Suddenly he did not want to make the walk to the Sanctum of the beauteous one, and for a man who had a reputation of being a harsh but fair man, he suddenly felt afraid, like a child.

“Would you like me to deliver it to him my Lord?” Corenza offered.

“We both will” The Master of the Fleet recovered his composure. “He may wish to ask you some more on it or give you orders to confirm it one hundred per cent”

“My Lord”

“Yes?”

“This is really happening isn’t it? The Legions are torn asunder and the Emperor has gone…”

“Do not speak of it” Oskata raised his fingers in warning and lowered his voice  
“Even now we are not sure who is with Horus or the Emperor and many will want to flock to the master of Mankind. If you value your life then I advise you, do not utter that last word.”

Corenza nodded once and stood up, she had received the message and it was her duty to report it, she was, however grateful for her commanders presence. The ride up to the Stratagem deck seemed to take forever and even when they were there, the walk to the vast doors that held his private sanctum seemed to elongate with every lead laden step. As Corenza saw the two terminators she felt her heart rise in fear.

These were the angels of death and by their hands worlds had fallen into compliance or died in resistance. She only now, up close and personal to the two silent sentinels, understood that fear the enemy must have when they face these genetically modified Trans-humans. Their gold and white armour differed from their battle brothers and each had wings that were as white as the snow. Oskata cleared his throat and inclined his head in a bow. The behemoth on the left turned to face them both and, out of respect for Oskatas’ rank, inclined his head.

“Master?” The voice that emanated from the Vox-Grill was like something out of a Baal nightmare.

Corenza was not from Baal, but, she had heard the stories and could well imagine what manners of horrors lived on those worlds, and yet she felt safe with them around. They were defenders of humankind and whilst she took pride that she served on one of the greatest living Primarchs flagship, recent events and those that now transpired over her Vox, made that a little more reassuring. Had it been any other Primarch she might have had doubts, but not this one.

“We have a vox communication for the Primarch”

“I will take it to him” The Terminator held out his hand.

“With all due respect My Lord, I think my Master of Vox should deliver this herself”

The Terminator seemed to hesitate for a long time but, they could hear the clicks of his internal Vox. After what seemed an age he stepped to one side, seemingly sensing the young womans trepidations he said not unkindly.

“When you look at him try to look anywhere but his face, it might make you feel less inclined to abase yourself like a slavering imbecile”

Corenza smiled her thanks “My gratitude Lord Asmodean”

Asmodean bowed briefly and the doors to the private chambers of the true commander of this vessel opened and then shut behind them once they had entered.

“So,” A strong and yet soft voice spoke from the shadowed portion of the room “What is so important that you had to deliver it to me personally?”  
As the god of war stepped into the light both the Master of the Fleet and Master of Vox moved to one knee and bowed their heads. But it did not stop their hearts hammering in their chests, although to be fair Osaka had seen the Primarch many a time now, Corenza looked like she was going to lose her sensibilities. She had not had much to do with the Primarch until now.

“Stand my son and my daughter” He beamed and held his hand out to Corenza  
“Racheal isn’t it?” She nodded, her tongue seeming to go dry and she had seemed to lose the memory of speech.

He guided her to her feet and took the slate she held out in a trembling hand, her eyes did not meet his; they were focused firmly on his armoured thighs. Still it did not stop her wanting to throw her clothes off in wild abandon and give herself to him. The thought that crossed her mind was abhorrent to her, one did not do that to a Primarch, hell she did not even know if they did that themselves. But the thought was just there and then it was gone, such was the power of a Primarch, and such was the power of this Primarch.

“I received it via fleets’ wide channels my Lord” She stammered a little “Con-confirmed by the Astropaths.”

The Primarch read the contents and suddenly his beautiful countenance darkened “You have confirmed this yourself?”

“Y-yes Lord, the Mistress of Astropaths has confirmed the news.”

“Krae,”

“My lord?” The Master of the Fleet stood straighter

“How far are we from the Ultimar Segmentum?”

“Fifteen days spin ward my lord?”

The Primarch clenched his fists “Get us there as quickly as possible, inform Navigator Cherizo that I want the fastest course through the warp to get to Chogoris”

“Yes My Lord”

“Racheal, would you sent a message via the Astropthaic chamber informing Chogoris that help is the on the way and the Blood Angels are at their disposal, and they shall also have me at their disposal”

“Yes Lord”

Both of them left the Stratagem and Sanguineous returned his attention to the Vox message in his hands.

“Vulkan” he whispered “oh my most diplomatic brother, what have you done if the Khan is dead then there will be no coming back from this.”  
The father of the Blood Angels called Asmodean in and looked at him as the Terminator Sergeant bowed his head.

“Yes Sire?”

“Have a private communique sent to the Vengeful Spirit informing Horus of this” He handed him the data-slate “and tell him…..” The Angel paused for a moment and a dark look crossed the normal golden features “Tell him it has started, Prospero was the beginning”

Asmodean bowed once more and went to do his father’s bidding. Sanguineous moved to the window that affords him the sight of space and beyond. Unlike some of his brothers who had fought the Emperor when he had arrived, he had not. He had known instinctively who the man was and had seen no need for a contest of arms.

Now it was all going sour, their father was not the man he was. The Angel did not know who this man was but it was not his father, at least not his father anymore. He bowed his head, the galaxy was in flames and this would not be the end of it. When the Imperium was dead, which he knew would happen no matter how this all turned out, then what was left was going to be a place of darkness and never ending war.

He also hoped for Vulkans sake, that he died before the Khan got his hands on him, he had destroyed the fortress monastery and if Khan still lived, then this would mean a blood feud, these were not good.

They never were. He felt the ship begin to turn and head towards a jump point, he wanted to get to Chogoris as quickly as he could before they lost another brother to their father and their other brothers madness.

Alice Springs was asleep when the combined Gal Vorbrek and Black Templars beside their master not so much as rolled into town but they stomped on it from a great height. No one was safe from the two most zealous of the Emperors forces. The Word Bearers had always been known for their religious fervour, even when the Emperor had them sanctioned for it in the ruins of Monarchia.

But as the residents emerged fighting from their homes they were not just confronted by the Crimson Lord and his possessed warriors nor were they confronted by the wrath of the Emperor but, by monsters in armour of black with white Crux’s. If they thought the Word Bearers were bad then the Black Templars were worse.

The first of a new founding from the Imperial Fists, their chapter master was the First Captain himself Sigismund and they were taken from brothers of the First, Second, Third, Fourth and Fifth companies. They were a force of brutality but, amongst the pulped bodies they took the children. Boys and girls because the Emperor had expressly ordered those children between the ages of new-born and 16 are taken.

Brother Kalestros of the Black Templars reached the sheriff’s office and with a roar shattered the door as he kicked it into pieces. Before him stood the Sheriff and two deputies, protecting their wives and children who were huddled in an office behind them.

“In the name of the ancients” one of the deputies muttered as he saw the black armour loom above him. He swallowed and raised his carbine only to have a fist connect with his body, blood gushed from his mouth as his organs pulped to mash.

Kalestros smiled grimly behind his mask and turned as he felt the bullets from the ancient weapons ping harmlessly off his armour. How the Word Bearers lost to these maggots the first time round was beyond him, they were nothing to him, these people were in contravention of the Emperors laws, they would not accept him as their god and for that, there was no mercy to be given.  
He grabbed the second deputy, a woman with a scar down the right side of her face, he tipped his head to one side and lifted her by her throat, she would have made a good addition to the new sisterhood cadre the Emperor wanted to build, she was young but, she was also corrupt, impure and she would never change.

To show her defiance she spat at him, the spittle running down his vox grill, behind the helm Kalestros smiled, she had spirit that was something. Perhaps he could find a use for her after all; he tossed her to one side into the side wall and through it.

++ She comes with us ++ he voxed to the Serf who was taking the prisoners.

The Serf didn’t know if this was per the Emperors orders but, he was not about to argue with a Black Templar such as Kalestros. His temper was known to be finite at the best of times. Kalestros turned as the Sheriff roared an affirmation which made his Choler rise.

“FOR HORUS!” Rafe roared louder and fired point blank with a melta gun he had secreted away.

Kalestros stared as the shot hit his shoulder pauldron with a kick enough to make him stagger back. Bolstered by his attack Insola snarled turning his face into an angry mask.

“You should not have come here son of a whore”

Kalestros laughed but there was no humour whatsoever , he removed his helm and although the changes wrought by the gene-seed of his father had changed him, Insola stepped back as the glare that hit him was similar, like a faded memory that only the DNA held locked in its own memory banks.

“If I am a son of a Whore then that makes you the great-great grandchild of one, and how does that feel Sheriff of a town that will become a ghost town” Kalestros let the twisted smile cross his face as he registered the denial and the shock on the Sheriffs face “when you die, it will be imprinted on your soul for all of eternity that you were killed by an ancestor of your ancient line”  
The Astarte got up and was upon the dumbstruck human within a heartbeat; he lifted him off the ground and cocked his head to one side. “Where is the Lion that came through here? I can smell him”

“The last Lion that came through here we hung on a spit!” Insola finally found his defiance.

It was a futile gesture he knew, he knew he was dead, but his own code and his own bravado broke through the fear that this gargantuan being had hexed him with.

“Brave words descendant but ultimately a lie, Malcador is dead and I will find the last of the traitor Lions even if I have to eat your brains in front of your family to do so”

Insola struggled as the Black Templar took his arms and carried him to the office where the other humans cowered. He heard the sobs and whimpers of the children and the terrified hushes of the mothers that were there. He read the Templars face perfectly.

“If you tell me where the one called Amon went then, I will let you live” he turned his gaze to the women.

In his opinion women were stronger than men when it came to the survival instinct. Unlike Astartes who had their bonds of brotherhood and had to deal with protecting the whole of the human race, mothers protected their children and the children of their kith and kin with a ferocity that bordered on animalistic.

Give them the chance to believe that there will be freedom for their children then they would weigh up the options quicker than a Battle Brother on the field. Women had strange ways of thinking but, they were to be commended. For the strength they had which was commendable when it came to protecting their family, it was also their greatest weakness.  
One he could exploit.

“Rafe tell him for the loves of the town tell him!”

The Sheriff shook his head; he had made a promise, one that his own code of honour would not let him break. He did not want to live in the world of the false god. He would rather have reverted back to the faith of his ancestors.  
Kalestros pulled a little and the wet snap of bone could be heard and the Sheriff screamed in pain, the woman called Sheelagh gathered her children to her and covered their faces.

“If the Emperor truly is a god then he must know where the Lion is” She snarled, she was blocking out the sounds of the dying outside and the cries of weeping mothers silenced by one last scream as their children were taken from them.

Rafe had told some of the townsfolk to leave, those who were able to eke out a living elsewhere, so that the spirit of Alyce Springs never died. None of them left, this was their home and they would die to defend it. They had been victorious before against the false god and his forces, they could be again.  
But back then there was not the Black Templars. Kalestros pulled with little effort and the sheriffs left arm fell from its socket in a gush of blood. Sheelagh knew her husband was going to die now, this so called defender of humanity was not going to let him live. She had to think about her children.

Where would they be taken, into slavery or into the service of a mad man and his sons? She saw her husband’s eyes and then glanced at her children and the children around her.

“Damn you all to hell” She whispered “I have no love for the Emperor or his Lions. He has gone to the old space port”

“Sheelagh no!” Rafe said through gritted pain filled teeth “What have you done woman?”

Kalestros smiled thinly and dropped the sheriff before standing on his head. His boots made a sickening crunch as bone was crushed to powder beneath the Astartes boot. He stepped back, his boot leaving a bloody footprint on the boards.

“What is going to happen to our children?” The woman who had chosen her children over her husband’s honour whispered.

Kalestros owed the woman nothing, however her strength with her children and that she had made the right choice touched something within him and he crouched down to face her, although she still had to look up at him.

“The sons will become initiates into the Astartes of the Primarchs or some may become the new Lions of the Emperor of Mankind. The daughters will become the holy daughters of the Emperor, be proud that they will live beyond your years daughter of Alyce Springs.”

“I will not live to see it; you will kill me and the rest of us because we deified the false god”

Kalestros stood up and turned as the Serfs came in behind him. He told them to take the children and watched as the mothers struggled to stop the chapter Serfs only to be smacked into place. The tears of the children did nothing to move the Astartes neither did the wails of the mothers, only Sheelagh, stood tall and proud, the tears fell not just at the grief of her husband’s death but the loss of her children, however she would be damned if she would let this monster see her weep like some fisherwoman.

Kalestros waited until the children were gone and raised his bolter. He fired into the other women their bodies squashing and bursting like ripe fruit but when it came to Sheelagh he hesitated. He smiled to himself and turning he walked away leaving her in the stench of death and pools of blood.

Sheelagh narrowed her eyes and shed her last tears, his last words ringing in her ears; they would be servants of the Emperor. She would not allow that, turning she headed into the armoury and after a few moments she found what she was looking for. She loaded it and then took it outside letting it sit on her shoulder.

“Black Templar Kalestros” She called, he stopped and turned “I am going to take some of you bastards with me, you should have killed me when you had the chance and if any memory of me and Rafe linger within our children, and they will do what needs to be done”

The Black Templars and Word Bearers laughed but the laughter died as she raised the rocket launcher with no trouble, Kalestros saw her planned trajectory and drew his bolter.

++FIRE++ He roared into his vox.

Sheelaghs body was riddled with bolter fire, her body starting to come apart but not before she let loose her rocket. The Rocket travelled upwards as the attacker was torn to pieces by the high powered velocity of the bolter shells tearing into her body and making it a bloody mess.

Kalestros thought she was aiming for one of the transport ships but she had not, even though she knew her children’s eventual fate, she could not bear the thought of harming them even now. The rocket struck a group of Astartes on the old town hall roof.

The two Word Bearers of the Gal Vorbrek shimmered as their bodies received mortal damage and whatever was possessing them vanished back into the warp, the three Black Templars cried as they fell. Brother Nados, Kalestross’ closest battle brother moved to the twitching body and kicked it with his foot, only to trigger an explosion that tore his legs and arm off.

Kalestros roared and fired into the body again, dead man’s trigger, oldest trick in the book and one that even through his battle grief he admired. There was nothing left of the woman and Apothecary Yanos was busy tending to Nados.  
His body was a ruin and yet he would survive all be it heavily scarred once the cybernetics had been fitted. For now Yanos placed him into a sleep and ordered him to be taken to the Black Templars Fortress Monastery out in the desert.

He heard the order to burn the town and ordered his remaining men to tear down the buildings, there would be nothing left of this place that dared defy the Emperor.

++cousin++

He heard the voice of Argel Tal in his vox ++ Lord? ++

++ Take two of the Gal Vorbrek and two others of your brothers and find Amon, The Master wishes them to be taken alive, he said enough blood has been shed today ++

++ He is merciful as he is wise, in the name of Dorn and the master of us all I will find Amon or die trying ++

++ In the name of Lorgar and the name of Dorn I accept your oath cousin ++

Kalestros took Brothers Xanos and Resak from the Black Templars with him and chose Brothers Faragar and Onesa of the Word Bearers and without another word the five of them headed towards the old mine.

 

The Emperor watched as Alyce Springs burnt, the last of the children were rounded up and taken towards the transport vessels and vehicles, he would have given them some reassuring words, just like that ancient prophet in days of old, but the sight of him would have made them cry even more, he did not want them to fear him, these would be the new generation of warriors, a bolster to his loyal sons forces and the beginnings of a daughters cadre of warriors.

Ones that would be so utterly loyal to him that anyone who spoke against him would fear them as much as they feared the Astartes and their fathers. He had discussed this with Lorgar and warned him that whilst the sisters would have enhancements, they would be nowhere near as strong as their Astartes brothers, nor did he want them to become vessels for the denizens of the warp, he needed them to be pure and not tainted.

Lorgar had agreed and now he stood with his arms folded, he regretted the loss of human life but, Alyce Springs like so many other places on Terra held small pockets of resistance, did they not realise that this was the way things had to be. He would have to bring Terra to heel once more before he dealt with his other sons.

++My apologies for disturbing you my lord++

He arched an eyebrow as he heard Lorgars voice come over his private vox

++You do not have to apologise to me Lorgar, and your Gal Vorbrek are a credit to you, we will speak of their role when I return, now what is it my son?++

++The Astropthaic choir has received a message from The Promethean, Vulkan is in a serious condition and will need your ministrations father. It did not go well with the Khan++

The Emperor closed his eyes, he knew the Khan would be difficult, but he thought the Khan was utterly loyal to him.

++What about the secondary plan? ++

++First Captain Numeon said it was carried out, but he does not know if the Khan is dead++

++I doubt it++ The Emperor was more concerned for his son than anything else ++I will return shortly and Lorgar, it will be time for you to join the New Crusade soon enough, I want you out there taking my words to the stars and the planets. Is there someone who can sit in your place before you begin your pilgrimage? ++

++I will let you know before the day is out father, ++

The Emperor said no more and watched Alyce Springs burn.

 

The bodies that came at the Scars defied belief and logic, the dead did not get up and walk once they were dead, it was impossible and yet, yet it reminded the Captain of old legends, stories that his human Grandsire had told him when he was a young warrior. He had not thought of the old man in decades, long dead with his parents and siblings, and yet as long ago as it was Haren recalled the firelight tales with the utmost clarity.

The Salamanders bodies began to move, their heads were locked to one side as they had been when their necks had been broken in the blast that had killed them. Open wounds ran with sores that wept the foulest stench. It was not just the dead traitors, but their own kith and kin too. Haren let his weapon bark its vengeance, and yet it did not put them down. He snarled a thousand curses at the Salamanders who dared to still exist and wept as he put down what had been the future of the Scars.

He heard Shan curse as he put several bolts into the bloated pestilence infested bodies. The rest of Squad Stansho along with their Sergeant brought up the rear and fired into the reanimated bodies. Haren heard a scream and turned to see Brother Henogols beating off what looked like flies, but before anyone could pull him away he was consumed from within. The Bloated green insects made their way into the joints of the armour.

The death cry became a gurgle and then nothing as the armour fell to the floor and the remains of Henogols slopped to the floor in a pile of mush. Haren ordered a retreat as the wet gurgle of the Salamanders reached his ears.

“Death is not the end Scar” Harens targeting receptacles identified the undead Marine as Brother Nugyen, the wet slurping sound of the Salamander sent a shiver of – was that fear up his spine? “It is merely the beginning”

Before Haren could retort his vox came alive with the sounds of his warriors and other Battle Brothers who had escaped the blast fighting the re-animated marines from both Salamander and White Scar.

Haren turned to his Sergeant, a big man by the name of Tonsou and growled  
“Burn them, incinerate this room”

Tonsou needed no telling twice and ordered his two brothers with the heavy flamers to come up and cover the Captains retreat. Nugyen reached out and grabbed Haren opening his mouth wide he poured those flies into the Scars face. The Captain roared and repeated his order to burn them all. Tonsou hesitated, unwilling to kill his Captain but Shan reacted, he grabbed a fallen Flamer and poured the flames into the room roaring his Captains name in honour as the commander of the 19th Company was engulfed in flames along with his Salamander killer.

“FOR THE KHAN AND HORUS”

Harens dying words echoed over the whoosh of promethean flame. Bodies that had slithered to life melted into a putrid stinking mess and the Salamanders let a second death rattle go as their already decayed skin burst into separate flames, popping the boils that unleashed the flesh eating flies only for them to be incinerated in the intense heat of the fires that now poured into the room.

Eventually there was silence and the stink of burning human and Astartes flesh was more pungent then any of them wanted to remember. It was one thing on a battlefield because you could ignore the smells around you, concentrate on the goals your commander and your Primarch gave you. Shan closed his eyes and reloaded his flamer, despite Tonsou being the ranked officer he turned to his brothers.

“We have a fortress to clean”

Needing some sort of clarity the White Scars followed him; Tonsou was beside Shan and stopped him. “You need to follow me son” The Sergeant warned  
“Your day will come, but for now let’s do this together”

Shan bowed his head, too caught up in the need for revenge to answer, but Squad Stansho met up with others who had escaped the blast and sent their undead enemies back to hell.

 

Amon listened in on the inter-vox chat. The Word Bearer conversations’ were in the Colchisan dialect, and although he knew the language in most of his forms, this seemed to be a new variation of that language. At first he thought they might be safe, even the Word Bearers could not find them this far down, and although he cared little about his own life, he had grown to care about the humans with him, and the fact he had a job to do. As soon as he heard the Black Templars mixed tones from wherever on Terra they came from or Inwit, or anywhere else that the Fists had conquered in their days of traveling the stars, he knew that they had been betrayed.

Then again he had heard the orders, take the children, burn the town. If anyone thought they could save themselves and their families they would have told, sometimes even courage gave way in the face of overwhelming battle odds. He could not blame them for that, they were after all, only human.

He had seen the piety with which the Word Bearers held the Master of Mankind, it boarded on religious fervour and yet whilst Lorgar had become the so called Black Pope and head of this new religion, the Black Templars were far more fanatic in their veneration of the Emperor. If there was to be a holy Jihad then they would be the ones at the forefront of it all. They made even the Word Bearers look calm in comparison. He knew Sigismund was fanatical but this made it worse. He had read the books on the ancient crusades, how one religion fought another for the same god; he did not see how this was going to be any different.

All he knew was that he had to get these humans to safety and if that meant taking them with him then so be it. It would not be safe for them to be in the hands of the Castellans of the Black Templars, or by that extension the hands of the High Marshall. Amon grabbed Louise, whom he seemed to have developed a rapport with and pointed.

“We have the Black Templars coming our way, whilst the Word Bearers might let you live to see if they could change your way of thinking, the Black Templars will not. It is me they want Louise; take your people and leave. Find a place to stay and one day return to Alyce Springs, build it up as a beacon to what the truth is.”

Louise glanced at him and heaved a sigh “You do not get it do you Lion, it doesn’t matter to them, do you seriously believe they are going to let anyone from Alyce Springs live for precisely the reason that you have stated. We were one of the last settlements in this land to refuse the Emperors divinity. Now no one here will ever settle in this town again, its remains will remind them of the atrocity that happened here, and no one will harbour us for fear of retribution. Are you still so blind to the fact that the Emperor as to who he was before is gone and his new – persona – is terrifying.”

Amon checked around him as her words sank in. He was looking for another way out, to throw the Astartes off the scent, there was none, Louise, Kelan, Tommy, Margareta, and Harok moved ahead slowly, sweeping their weapons from left to right like seasoned pros. It concerned him that they thought their ancient weapons would do anything against Ceramite armour. He supposed if a lucky shot hit the gaps between the armour or the vox grill then they would have something to cheer about.

He was about to say something cheering and encouraging when the earth above them opened up and Onesa of the Word Bearers dropped down, his normal handsome features twisted into something evil. Harok screamed in fear as the Word Bearer rose up, the bestial features unmatched by the fangs that had filled an undersized mouth or the horns that had erupted effortlessly from his head.

Harok fired twice and hit Onesa in the face, instead of dying, the possessed warrior merely touched the wound the bullets had made and grinned. He said nothing as he extended his maw and closed them around Haroks head. Amon twirled his guardian spear and fired point blank at the Word Bearer. Had the situation not been so serious, the comical expression that crossed the Word Bearers face might have been laughable. Onesa looked down at his abdomen, the hole that appeared was trying to heal, but the power of the guardian spear was not to be denied and they had sorely underestimated Amon.

Everyone believed that Valdor was the perfect Custode and, he had been, but Amon had been his protégée, he had got further than any Custode during the Blood Games and as Xanos, still munching on Haroks head snarled his anger and his pain, Amon severed his head neatly and quickly. For added measure he pushed his foot down on the head, crushing it under his boot. The corpse shimmered as whatever possessed him returned from whatever realm it had come from.

“Keep moving” Amon ordered monitoring the vox net “We don’t have much time, how far to the space port?”

Kelan pointed to the far end “Another half an hour maybe”

“Then run because what takes you half an hour will take them minuets. I will cover you”

“No” Margareta pulled some explosives from her pack “You have a job to do on behalf of the Sigillite I will slow them up”

“I cannot let you do that” Amon insisted

“It is not your decision to make Custode, your kind no longer mean anything to me so get a move on and take your message to the other Emperor damned blood. Humans would be better off without any of you in my opinion”

Amon set his jaw tight he was not used to being told no by Humans, he was the one that would tell them no and it was not just her reluctance to do as he said, it was the fact that she hated all transhumans, unlike the Astartes he had not forgotten his humanity, it was still there albeit in a past that was no longer of any consequence. He shook his head a little and tried to reason with her but it was not going to work. As he explained to her that not all the Emperors sons had become blood thirsty monsters she raised her hands to the heavens and arched an eyebrow. Her answer was unspoken yet her meaning was clear. He did not blame her for that and without another word he set off with the remaining trio.

Margareta moved back and picked up the fallen Bolter, it was too big for her small hands and she barely reached the trigger. It was not designed for human hands but she did not care for that, only that she could fire it. She looked up as the first Black Templar emerged Xanos raised his bolter and his sword. She took in the iconography on his black armour and fired the oversized weapon. The Bolters went wide and the recoil broke her arms. She cried out in pain and horror and dropped the weapon. Xanos narrowed his eyes.

“That is holy Astarte weaponry woman, it is not for you to wield or touch such sacred weapons.”

Margareta laughed despite her pain and knelt on the detonator. It would not stop this monster and it would kill her, this she knew but she did not care. As the rocks and the earth collapsed on top of her, killing her she continued to laugh. She would join her loved ones and her ancestors and leave this world behind her. Xanos roared as the earth and masonry covered him.

++Brother Xanos, answer me, Brother! ++

Kalestros heard nothing but felt the rumble of the ground as the explosives took hold. He was about to call again when Xanos’s voice came across the vox.

++ Apologies Brother Kalestros, I will be delayed, I am going to have to dig my way out++

++make it quick Brother, we do not have much time and I gave my oath to the Crimson Lord++

++Understood++

Kalestros snarled to his remaining brother and cousin ++I will not be made a fool off and I will not fail the Emperor or my father++

They headed towards the Space Port, the Custode not escape and he did not care about the humans helping him, all he wanted was Amon.

 

The fighting around the blasted Fortress and the streets below was not just the undead marines or novitiates, serfs and other Legion workers, but the populace as well. Once more the Scars were fighting for their world, none of them had yet managed to see if their father was alive, or the mighty First Captain, they were too busy coming to terms with fighting not just Salamanders whom had been killed days before, but their own kin too.

It was the things that their ancestors spoke off in hushed tones, the dead returning to life to signify the former sins of the ancestors. The times before the Great Khan when bloodspots were used as a form of entertainment, mortals cried out for their leader as the abominations rampaged through the market killing all they found, the Scars wondered where their father was, they did not know if he was alive or dead as no one had managed to breach any part of the shattered fortress with any real effort.

Captain Damba Ujin, Captain of the 53rd company battled with a small number of his squad across the vast plains that made up the market. He ordered his rear guard to get the surviving populace to the safety of the Imperial Army and, taking Squads Ozas, Tumay and Batu made his way through the screaming mortals, herding them back towards the Army. The Imperial Army of the Talskar 23rd Cavalry and the Talskar 13th infantry. He Snarled curses at the lumbering Salamanders but could only stare in horror as a couple of 5th Company Warriors were taken down by whatever lurked within the corrupted flesh of the Emperors Astartes.

The dead sons of Vulkan were enacting their masters’ last orders and yet, Ujin had not one doubt in his mind that this is what Vulkan wanted. He might be a murdering bastard son of a mad Emperor but he could not believe that this was anything to do with him.

++Bolters are to be aimed at the heads, seems the only way to keep them down, Sergeant Buja heavy weapons flamers and Sergeant Tengria plasma weapons. Send our unrested brothers to peace with the ancestors and those Nocturne bastards to whatever hell they have made for themselves++

The two Sergeants’ runes flashed in acknowledgement and moments later the smell of promethium filled the air as the heavy weapons squad of Sergeant Buja let leash their fires upon the enemy and the honoured. Moments later the whine of Plasma weapons filled the air and a series of blasts from Sergeant Tengrias squad hit their marks with devastating effects.  
Ujin lost track of time as he and his men fought to clear the way for the civilians to reach safety, his swords power field cut through Power Armour like a knife through butter, the flames cooked flesh like a hog on a spit, both mortal and Astarte, the stench could not be more different. Ujin could smell the stench of human flesh and for a fleeting moment thought of wild boar, the smell of the Astartes was different, the rich gene code that was wrought into their DNA of their fathers hung in the air and had it been a different Legion then Ujin might have lost his sensibilities.

However, he took in the long draft of his father’s gene code and used it to his advantage, letting him overcome the revulsion he felt at what had become of the Salamanders and what was happening to his brothers, if this is how it was to be then so be. Chogoris would not be brought low by witches and phantoms.

++FOR THE KHAN AND FOR HORUS! ++ He bellowed into his vox and his men followed him further into battle.


	6. Chapter 6

The Stratagem of the Vengeful Spirit was dimly lit, the lone giant sat watching the stars, his grey eyes piercing through the glass as if his angry glare could change the way things were going. He still could not comprehend what was happening around him and his brothers. He, he alone felt the shame of not seeing what his father had become sooner. He believed his bond with his father would have allowed him to see this before the others and, in his arrogance he had dismissed Magnus’s warnings as the madness of one who had been held within the thrall of the warp for too long.

He should have known that as the eldest and the wisest, even if he could be a little arrogant at times, Magnus never spoke out of turn about their father, unless there was reason. Now Magnus lay on Kegara, broken in body but not in mind and Horus blamed his own disbelief in not stopping the horrific turn of events that had befallen the Thousand Sons.

It would take them years to recover their numbers, if they ever would. They had a new Home world to build, resettlement of what little mortal survivors there were left not to mention honouring the thousands of dead Thousand Sons and Space Wolves who had fallen in defence of Prospero. Despite his revulsion at the theatre that had been prosecuted, Horus had to admit that sending Angron had been a strategic win on his father’s side.

Angron never back down nor did he surrender and those who failed him paid the highest price. Unlike Sanguinius, Dorn or Horus himself, who would forgive failure if it was unavoidable, if there was no other option, Angron expected nothing like that and those that did found themselves on the end of his axes be they Astartes or human. He turned in his chair as his doors opened and Malgohurst limped in. Horus allowed himself a small smile, relieved that despite his Equerry’s twisted body, his mind was still as sharp as ever. Mal was almost an extension of his beloved Mournival, he knew how to keep the dogs of demands at bay, and there was never a more cynical and brutal diplomat then Malgohurst.

Horus could read all of his sons like a book and right now, Mal looked more serious then he normally did. Without a word, the Equerry handed him the message from the Astropthaic Choir. Horus pressed his finger against the side allowing his genetic code to be read and the message unveiled itself and the Warmaster read its contents. His grim mood became darker and he threw the slate on the desk.

“Who is the nearest company to the Ultimar Segmentum?” he asked.

Mal had expected this and answered without pause for thought “Captain Foicha of the 73rd Company My Lord”

Horus knew the name and nodded to himself, Foicha had an impressive record and preferred to be out in space rather than attend Legion business. Whenever a conclave of Captains was called Foicha always sent his senior Sergeant Seary.

“Foicha is in command of The Chthonian Dragon isn’t he?”

“Yes My Lord”

“Good have him head to Chogoris under my authority, when he arrives he is to do as Sanguinius says. Have the Astropthaic Choir send The Angel a message to that effect”

Malgohurst bowed low and walked out. Horus read the message from his most beloved brother once more. When did the Universe suddenly go to hell in a hand basket, all he had valued was coming apart at the seams.

Horus Lupercal felt the weight of the universe on his massive shoulders. 

 

The roar of an Astartes hit the remaining humans and the Custodes ears, whatever had happened to Margarita had not stopped the Templar. Louise pointed to a separate corridor and they peeled off down there. Amon was unsure of where they were going, but after they had run through the old shaft it became apparent where they were.

Before him loomed a mighty space born craft, it looked a little ancient, not what he was used to travelling on, but, if it got him to one of the loyalist fleets then that was all he cared about. Louise climbed aboard telling them to keep their pursuers off her arse until she had entered the codes that Rafe had given her.

Amon saw the name on the side “Demeter”; somewhere deep in his mind he recalled vaguely it was the name of a ship in a classic horror novel. He wondered if it was going to be a bad omen because what little he recalled of that story, the ship was wrecked when the crew had all been murdered, and two of the party were already dead.

He held onto his Guardian Spear tightly and joined the other two men who were watching the entrance to the bay and listening to the sounds above them. Amon was well aware that at some point the Emperors Astartes were going to get in, part of him hoped it would be now so that he could extract some measure of vengeance for Malcador and Valdor. Another part of him hoped they would be caught in the backwash of the engines as they took off.

Harok died next. He was smoking an Tabac Stick when monstrous arms that could not have been any part of a human let alone an Astartes reached down from the ceiling and grabbed the startled human, Amon roared a warning but it had been too late and with a wrench the Possessed Word Bearer ripped Harok in two, his torso fell one side and his legs the other, blood gushing like some deranged fountain.

Amon recognised Faragar but only after a few moments. His face was not human it looked out of place, like it was shifting between reality and something altogether more sinister. Tommy joined his side, his eyes wide with terror and fear came off him in waves.

“Get into the ship and help Louisa” Amon ordered “I will deal with this”

Tommy did not need telling twice and jumped into the old vessel yelling at his friend to get a move on and that Harok had just died. Amon raised his Guardian Spear and as Faragar sprung to attack him he fired into the neck sending the Word Bearer to the floor, he twirled his spear with effortless skill and drove it through the face plate of the demon before him then fired again. Not even Astartes Physiology could cope with that and as Faragar died, the being that shared his body shimmered out of existence and re-joined its brethren in the Warp.

++Amon, I think they have underestimated you++

Amon turned around to see Kalestros with his two brothers either side of him clap mockingly. Amon altered his stance; the combat drugs heightened his already superhuman senses. He had already worked out five different moves when Brother Resak made his move.

He realised it was a move to subdue, that meant the Emperor wanted him alive, Amon was not about to let that happen and as Resak fired Amon moved. He had moved again before the Astartes had retargeted and fired once more. Kalestros could not believe how fast this Custodes moved; it was like he had already anticipated the moves that Resak was going to make and ordered Xanos to move behind the Custodes.

Amon had already reacted to the new threat and ducked under another withering bolter fire although one shot clipped his shoulder and he winced in agony, before his enhanced physiology started the healing process. He ducked under Xanos’s blade and grabbed the Astartes by the throat and span him round, just as Resak fired again. Had Xanos not been in the way then the shot would have hit home. As it was Amon used him as a shield and the Black Templar crumpled as his chest was blown apart by the Bolters concussive shells.

Amon let the body fall, and fired his Guardian spear three times and there was silence, all that could be heard was Resaks body falling to the floor. Kalestros bellowed with rage at the deaths of his two brothers and clamped his bolter to his side and drew his sword. A sword that had been a gift from Sigismund himself and one that had never failed the Black Templar in any battle he had been in.

++Amon, everything is ready get up here++ Louise’s voice came across his vox.

++I will be there shortly My Lady++ Amon replied cordially that wrong footed the woman and cut his vox off.

Louise turned to Tommy and arched an eyebrow “Did he just call me My Lady?”

“He did” Tommy peered out the doorway “Bloody hell that Custode can move, there’s just him and the Black Templar Commander left”

Louise joined his side and both watched as the Last Lion of the old order faced off against the Black Templar of the new order.

Amon and Kalestros circled each other like the extinct animals that once roamed the plains of old terra. Kalestros was a son of Dorn, and Amon was not about to forget that. He had sparred with Sigismund before madness descended and he knew how fanatical the First Captain of the Fists could be. There was really no other choice to become a Chapter Master of such a fanatical order.

Amon cursed himself as Kalestros swung his sword and it struck home. He moved aside as the return strike sliced through thin air. The Custodes grabbed the Black Templar and the watching humans realised how much bigger the Custodes was to the Astartes. Kalestros struggled to raise his sword arm and reeled as Amon head butted him cracking his face plate and falling to the floor. Amon raised his foot and kicked the Black Templar across the hanger bay.

Kalestros groaned and got to his feet, ripping off his helm and tossing it to the floor. He took a run up and then leapt into the air, with both feet together he connected with Amons face snapping the Custodes face back in a blow that would have demolished a human’s face, as it was it was going to give Amon a headache.

“I am a son of Dorn” Kalestros snarled “Yet who are you a son of enhanced human?”

Amon got to his feet and wiped his bloody face. He grabbed Kalestross sword arm as it raised to strike a blow and with an elbow to the centre joint he brought it down snapping the arm in two.

“I am not a son of a Primarch that is true” He calmly spoke as a boot to the Black Templars knee joint snapped that out of place and another boot did the same again. “I am however the son of the Emperor”

“Liar!”

“Oh come now Kalestros, why do you think us Custodes do not share the same bonds of brotherhood as you Astartes? Why do you think we show little deference to the Primarchs? Our Primarch is the Emperor himself and it is the way he had us made that makes us so much different to you!”

He picked Kalestros up and raised him above his head “My loyalty was to the Emperor but no more, I am a free thinking man and unlike you I do not blindly follow my Primarch into damnation. Remember that when you are healing”

He brought him down from a great height and smashed his body across his knee. Kalestros shuddered in agony as his body fought to fight the pain and heal itself. Amon wiped his face and listened as he heard The Crimson Lords’ voice.

++Kalestros have you found him yet? ++

Amon picked up the helm and spoke into it ++Try again Heretic++ and dropping the helm he boarded the Demeter. He gave Louise a small object that looked like black glass. He told her to place that over the ships engine room and as the Demeter launched into the sky she shimmered then vanished from view.

“Heading My Lord?” Tommy asked with more respect in his voice then he would ever show a Custodes normally.

“Let’s see if we can find the Vengeful Spirit” Amon was drained, he was sore and he was tired but they had to get out of the Sol System first. So he made sure that they went silent running, it would be a disaster to have fought so hard to get off planet only to be blown up escaping the system.

It was the worst hours so far; they could hear the chatter over their vox’s. Orders were flying to find the vessel that had left Earth’s Orbit. Tommy headed carefully towards the designated jump point. As soon as they reached it they would be discovered so he had to be quick about his actions. As the hours passed they moved silently passed Saturn and headed towards Jupiter.

They heaved a sigh of relief as they passed under the Guardian of Inwit, an Imperial Fists strike cruiser and once again when they passed by the Nostramus, a Night Lords Cruiser. As they cleared Jupiter Tommy waited then, at the last moment he revealed the Demeter and jumped into the Warp Gate before any of their seekers knew what was happening.

Louise made sure the screens were down and heaved a sigh of relief. Amon slumped into a seat and closed his eyes. He could mourn the loss of his closest friend and the Sigillite and he did so. All he could do now was wait. It would be a while before they found a loyalist vessel but at least they were away from Sol, anything now was in the hands of fate.


	7. Chapter 7

The warning went out to every son of Khan on every vessel in every sector. Stay away from the home world, it was a plague world and no more sons of the Khan or the Imperial Army with them would fall prey to the beasts that now crawled over the home world. For every dead Salamander that fell three or four more rose up to take their place, and not just dead Salamanders but

White Scars too, who now turned on their brothers, guided by some nefarious voice telling them to kill and eat whatever was before them. The humans who had died were also returning to life leaving the remaining White Scars retreating further towards their fortress in an effort to rally. Not just that but they were desperately trying to get to the medical bays where the first and second captains were and not to mention, more importantly their father was too.

Captain Garge of the Seventieth Company walked to where his Sergeant was busy telling the human and Astartes rescue teams where to drill. He despaired at the damage done to the fortress but he had no time to mourn the loss of art and many murals depicting the rise of the Primarch and the companies that had brought honour to the Scars. He wanted the Primarch found and no matter how long it took, they would find him.

They turned as the sound of multiple transporters behind them reached their ears and drew their bolters. Only to fall to one knee as the splendour that stood before them reached into their souls and made their hearts sour once more. Only the Khan had a greater effect on his sons, but who would not be failed to move at the sight of the Primarch that all spoke fondly about. His Wisdom second only to Magnus the Red, his compassion on a par with Horus himself.

Since the news of the Emperors change of heart and the outbreak of the war The being that stood before them now had been named the First General, second only to Horus, and carried the Warmasters' seal wherever he went. Even in the limited glow of the lamps that shone in this part of the Citadel it was not hard to see him.

“My Lord” Garge closed his eyes, eyes that were threatening to spill with tears of joy at the sight of the Angel himself.

The Primarch extended his hand and Garge gripped it and was pulled gently to his feet. It was then that Garge saw who else was with the Blood Angels Father, First Company and the Sanguinary Guard who always accompanied their father no matter where he went. But there was also a company of Luna Wolves, by the name that came up on his helms visor, Garge recognised Captain Foicha of the Luna Wolves 73rd Company.

“Honour is done, rise my nephews and nieces” It did not escape the Scars notice that The Angel also included the Humans in that little speech. “We are here to aid the sons and daughters of my brother Jugathi.”

“I humbly hand over command to you My Lord” Garge stammered, he was always struck at the sight of a Primarch so heavens alone knew how the humans were reacting, he could hear a small amount of weeping at the sight of the Angel and he had his answer.

“Nonsense” The Primarch replied “I give myself and my sons and the sons of my brother Horus into your hands. Now tell me what needs to be done and we shall endeavour to aid you.”

“I will do better than that Lord” The Angel turned at the voice of Sergeant Tonsou “I can show you”

Garge smiled a little as the Veteran Sergeant came towards them “Tonsou was here when it first went to hell after the explosion Lord” He explained.

“Good then Tonsou you can show me, Foicha with me, and you Ral, the rest of you, do as Captain Garge says and help find their father” Sanguinius turned and smiled his most endearing and calming smile “Lead on Sergeant”

 

Sanguinius hissed as he saw what was happening in the valley below. He could not believe his eyes at the sight of what was before him. Tonsou had filled him in on what had happened leading up to the explosion that had torn the citadel in two and now the Primarch of the Blood Angels could only watch as he assessed what was happening below him. The dead were walking once more and creating undead in their wake, like a never ending tide of plague. He swore under his breath as witnessed a Salamander tear into the neck of a Scar only for a few moments later the dead Scar to get up and start attacking his former brothers.

“There is an old Terran name for them” He muttered “Zombies, I believe the ancient days made horror movie greats out of them, one bite or scratch and you become infected, oh for a squad of Death Guard here right now”

“Aye Lord” Raldoran nodded “None are more resilient then the sons of Mortarion”

“My Captain said to shoot them in the head Lord it seemed to put them down permanently, that and fire” Tonsou informed the Primarch.

Sanguinius nodded and glanced at his nephew Foicha who was studying the mass of warriors and humans below with a glint of recognition in his eyes.

“Something on your mind Angolas?”

Foicha was startled that the Primarch even knew his Christian name let alone spoke it but he soon recovered. “Captain Loken once said that this had happened to him. One of his Sergeants’ had been killed then got up and walked again. Could it be something from the Warp doing this my Lord?”

Sanguinius didn’t answer, truth was he had no idea what was going on except that his eyes told him, what was impossible was now possible. He had never been to the fortress of Quan Zhou and had this not been so urgent then he might have taken time to admire the sheer beauty of the Palace. As it was no outsider had ever seen the inside and the irony were not lost on the Angel.

He took in the surrounding peaks and had to admire Jaghatai for choosing such an inaccessible place to rule his Legion from. But it also afforded Sanguinius the chance to turn this seemingly obvious defeat around to a victory.

“Tonsou, I want your best marksmen stationed in the hills to the left and some on the right create a crossfire that will herd them towards the valley there. Garge I want flamer units surrounding the entrance to the valley, every single flamer unit from Astarte to Human.” He looked round once more and saw the Titans of the Leigo Xerxes begin to move out from their stations  
“Get me the Princeps of those Titans” He suddenly said.

Garge did as he asked and the scowl on his face told the Primarch that the Princeps was not used to being told what to do by an Astartes, Captain or not. He rolled his eyes at the arrogance of the man on the other end of the vox.

He cut across the vox transmission not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

++ You will listen to me and listen to me well++ he spoke.

++Who is this? ++

++I am Sanguinius and if you do not know who I am then let me explain, I am the lord of the Blood Angels, I want those Titans of the Leigo Xerxes to do exactly what I tell them to.++

++O-Of course my lord, I did not know who I was conversing with++ The Princeps stammered.

++Of course you didn’t, what is your name Princeps? ++

Garge thought he saw the slightest hint of amusement in the Primarchs eyes, of course he could not be sure and he didn’t dare look long enough to be sure.

++I am Princeps Honsra of the Flames of Truth Titan of the Leigo Xerxes++

++Well Princeps Honsra of the Flames of Truth, I want you and your brothers and sisters to move into a flanking movement beside the flamer units that will be at the head of the valley. And when the order is given you use those big masculine flamers on the Astartes and humans before you++

++Lord? ++

++You heard me, they are no longer sons of Vulkan or the Khan they are to be destroyed no quarter given++

++As you command Lord++

Sanguinius cut the connexion and rubbed his brow, he sighed heavily, must the Titan crews be so damn arrogant when at the end of the day, and they are all in the same fight? He didn’t know, and with Mars firmly in the hands of the sons of Manus he was at a disadvantage in not knowing who was on his side and who was not.

“Ok let’s go” He turned on his heel and everyone around him rushed to complete his orders. Sanguinius glanced at Raldoran and Foicha “if it is apparent that the Mundus Planus cannot be saved then you know what to do. I cannot allow what is on here to spread to any other part of this system”

Both his Chapter Master and the Lunar Wolves Captain bowed their heads although neither man was happy about that idea, the Angel had a point. Sanguinius moved to join the troops below, both Astartes and Humans would need encouragement; their spirits were broken at the sight before them. He had to bolster their confidence.

Foicha turned to Ral and stopped him briefly “What kind of Pact did Vulkan make for this madness?” he asked quietly.

Ral shook his head and rested a hand on his cousins Pauldron “Let’s hope we never find out cousin”

They were about to follow the Primarch when a shout from where the rescue teams were digging made them run down the steps and towards the men they had left there to aid the Scars, and immediately both men fell to one knee as the figure emerged from the hole, bloodied and dirty Jugathi Khan roared his defiance.

 

Magnus opened his eye as he felt the ripple of Malcadors death in the oceans streams. He closed his eye once more and a tear trickled down his face. He had liked Malcador; the man had stood his ground on more than one occasion before his more, formidable brothers.

“Father” He moved his head as Amon, who had, along with Ahriman ran things in his incapacitation “Forgive me for disturbing you, The Warmaster wishes to speak with you”

Magnus turned his head, he was getting some mobility back but not much and he would never stride the fields of battle or the gathering of knowledge with his sons. What was left of them, it would take years maybe centuries to get their numbers back up to anything near what they once were.

He waved his hand across the screen and saw Horus’s face appear and the smile was genuine, much to Magnus’s’ surprise.

“How fare you my brother?” Horus asked.

“Getting there” Magnus replied “Is there a problem that you require my aid?”

“Not yet Brother” Horus raised his hand “However, the conversation we had the other day, I think it is time to make arrangements”

“Are the others in agreement?”

“Yes” Horus nodded “There are those who do not believe it should be done, however with what has happened on Chogoris now….”

“What has happened on Chogoris?” Magnus interrupted the Warmaster and moved his arms to allow him to sit up although it hurt like hell. Amon rushed towards him but was brushed off by his father.

“I am not sure on the details, but Sang is there and he says it would seem that Vulkan attacked the Khan, he is there attempting to aid the situation, reports I have received have said that the dead are coming back to life and there is no sign of the Kharn”

Magnus closed his eye once more and snarled in anger “Then Father is stepping up his agenda. Malcador is dead” He opened his eye to see Horus’s stone face, but the shock registered in the flicker of his eyes “Very well Horus, I will send the message I will also send Ahriman to rendezvous’ with the Vengeful Spirit. You must reach the others that we spoke off.”

Horus was silent for a moment as if he was unsure of what to say next. Magnus let him form his thoughts, although he had much more to deal with one just did not rush the First Primarch.

“Your wisdom is still needed Magnus, I still need you” Horus finally said “for if we are to save the Imperium then I will need you to keep me level headed”  
Magnus arched an eyebrow. It seemed that all the rivalries between him and Horus were gone, just as the rivalries between him and Russ, vanished in the aftermath of the death of his home world.

“You have that brother”

“I have also spoken to some of the others, Corax, Mortarion and Perturabo in particular. We are going to send you some aspirants that have shown Psyker abilities, they have not been implanted yet but they did pass their trials. We both know that Mortarion is uncomfortable with Psykers at the best of times and rather than have him execute them on the spot I suggested we send them to you. They will have a home and a father who can teach them better than anyone I know.

I will also be sending some aspirants that have shown the same abilities. I do not know how much it will help you for I know it will be a long time before the Thousand Sons are able to act as a full Legion, but it is a start for you”  
Magnus did not know what to say, he was genuinely touched by what the Warmaster was saying to him.

“Thank you”

“No need to thank me Magnus, it would seem that you were right all along, Nikea was a sham”

Magnus said nothing and bowed his head “I shall let you know when I have made arrangement for you to meet with the Eldar”

“Take care Magnus and I will see you soon my brother. Amon, don’t take any shit from him, he is to recover and you will have to carry the load for a while”  
Amon bowed his head although he allowed the smile to cross his face at his uncles words “That can be difficult Uncle. Our Father is stubborn as you know”

Horus laughed and even Magnus chuckled a little at his Equerry’s words. Horus vanished from view his laughter echoing after his mage had faded. Magnus glanced at Amon and arched an eyebrow.

“Your Uncle likes you”

Amon shrugged a little and said nothing more. Magnus dismissed him and lay back down. He calmed his mind and although his body was crippled his mind was not, he sent his soul out into the Great Ocean seeking the one Xenos who would listen to him.

 

Sanguinius heard the shout from the Scars as the figure descended from the walkway of the Palace. His heart soared as he laid eyes on the Great Khan but his happiness turned to concern when he saw the Khan was favouring one side of his stomach when he believed no one was looking.

He waited until the Khan was beside him and greeted him in the old pre unity way. The Khan saw Sanguinius’ eyes flicker to his side and gruffly shook his head. “I will heal my brother. Now I need to clean my lands and with you here that will make it quicker.”

Sanguinius was not stupid, that side wound was more serious than the Khan was letting on, but he understood why he was being so blarze about it. His sons needed the boost that seeing their father would give them, he quickly filled the Khan in on his plan, then he raised his beautiful sword, the twin of which sat in the hands of his beloved brother Horus and at his and the Khans shout the fight back began.

 

It was a day that would never be forgotten, not for the next year, decade and millennia down the course of history. The day that Chogoris regained itself and lost itself all in the same token. At the Primarchs commands, the Marksmen began to fire, making each shot count. The Human Imperial Army sharpshooters listened to their Astartes masters and aimed for the heads, the sight of a Primarch in the field of battle was a sight to never be forgotten, but two of them, that were a song for their children to hear and their grandchildren.

When a human marksman or markswoman fell, the Astarte with them cut their heads off and muttered the rite of passing. Less they get up and join their brainless fellows. The same with a fallen Astartes, he would deliberately set off a Krak grenade if he knew he was going to die. Not only obliterating himself but his attackers and his gene seed, so that the contagion would not pass onto the next generation.

As the hoard moved forward, their numbers thinned out by the combined fire from Luna Wolves, Blood Angels and White Scars sharpshooters, the Titans unleashed their deadly flamers engulfing not just one but several warriors, Astarte and human alike. The undead continued regardless of their casualties, as if answering an old instinct and obeying an old order that still remained somewhere deep within that dead mind.

As such some broke off from the main group and headed towards where the Khan was cutting down son and nephew alike, what the Titans missed, and what the Flamers missed, he and Sanguinius did not. He saw them coming and hefted his huge scimitar blade, ignored the pain from his side. His healing was too slow; something about that damn hammer from Vulkan was preventing his own unique genealogy from healing.

It was getting harder to lift his sword, harder to see and harder to think, but somewhere deep within him, the love of his sons and the love he had for his sons kept him going. He decapitated all around him, to those who witnessed it, they wept, they wept at the grace and the ferocity of the one they called The Great Khan. Sanguinius joined his side, concerned at his brothers faltering that only he could see, and two of the greatest Primarchs turned the tide of battle. It was sunrise the next day by the time it was over and only then did Jugathi collapse into Sanguinius’s arms.

His eyes flickered, the toxin that had been within that hammer working its way through his system so completely. Sanguinius swallowed as his brother held his hand in the way of old unity. “Do not let my Legion die” And with those words uttered, the Great Khan, the greatest warrior that the people of Chogoris had ever known, passed to the great hunting plains in the sky,

 

The fires burnt for days, but the biggest fire was reserved for the Primarch whose body was cleaned and dressed in his artificer armour and laid on the pyre. Sanguinius had waited for the arrival of brothers or their first captains and in the meantime the Fortress had been cleansed. Jubal Khan was now the Leader of the White Scars and as he took the oath that bound him to the care of his brothers, he had taken an oath to avenge his father against the Salamanders.

Abaddon and Little Horus represented Horus, their father unable to attend as he was elsewhere but, the depth of his grief had been conveyed in private not just to Sanguinius but, to Jubal Khan. Perturabo, Corax, Mortarion and Gulliman carried the Khans body through an honour guard of White Scars, Blood Angels, Luna Wolves, Raven Guard, Death Guard, Ultramarines, Iron Warriors, Space Wolves and Alpha Legion. Artenhiem, one of Amons senior warriors represented the Thousand Sons with his company.

As the Khans body burnt human and Astarte wept, the present Primarchs kept their faces grim. For they had no idea what could fell a Primarch, but something had and it suddenly brought home to them that their demented brothers would stop at nothing to fulfil their fathers dreams.

Sanguinius took Artenhiem to one side and pointed to the large metal footlocker that had remained separate from any other weapon within the White Scars Armoury. His instructions was clear, it was to be take back to the new Thousand Son home world where Magnus and his senior Captains could examine it and keep it locked away so that it did no more harm.

Then with his brothers that were in attendance he toasted to the soul of The Great Khan and for a brief moment thought that he could hear Jugathis voice carry across the hunting plains. If this was what it would boil down to then so be it, they would be ready.

 

The Demeter belched into normal space like a little piece of something stuck in its throat, for a while the ship remained silent, no one aboard dared move until eventually Amon rose from his seat and made his way to the cockpit, Tommy was breathing heavily and almost a little fearfully. Gently he coaxed the human to open the shields and the sigh of relief when they realised they were back in normal space was palatable.

Tommy took over the controls and Louise moved back into the crew area. Amon watched as she sat down and rested her head in her hands, the adrenalin of the day or maybe week, who knew, rushed out of her, the realisation that her friends were all dead.

“They took the young” She whispered, “I heard it over the vox”

Amon, who had been watching her sat across from her, his massive bulk easily settling into the crew seat. He glanced out the window for a moment and watched the stars lazily fly by. Ever since he had become a Custodes, and one of the Companions he had listened to the Emperor talk about how Man was destined to rule the stars. It had been ordained that way since time began.

He had listened to the Emperor say time and time again that religion was the bane of man’s existence, which he had not killed off the religion of mankind for any other reason except survival. He had explained to him and Constantin that more wars had been started over the love a god with different names but essential the same being, then anything else.

And here, now everything he had been taught to believe in was gone and he did not know where he fitted into the grand scheme of things now. He turned his attention back to the weary looking woman.

“The children will not be harmed” He assured her “They will be conditioned to love the Emperor and will either go into an orphanage run by him, the babies will go into families loyal to him and those old enough will go into the legions’ loyal to him. Some of them may even become Custodes.”

“And that’s supposed to reassure me?” She wearily asked.

“They are alive, that is the best I can tell you” Amon ran a hand through his short black hair.

Louise raised her head and glanced over him. He was a handsome man, but one who had lost everything he believed in. He did not know where he fitted in; he was a soldier, a warrior without a unit. The Custodes could fight individually, they had no need for the tight bonds that bound Astartes, and yet, he mourned his brother Custodes.

They had died defending Malcador and he knew how they must have felt fighting their own father. The universe had gone mad, father against son, cousin against cousin, brother against brother. It was insane. She reached out and laid her hand over his and it was small in comparison to his, she had lost her community and its future. He had lost his way of life.

But maybe…”Amon we have a new war to fight and I for one intend to avenge each and every death in Alyce Springs and I would be honoured to fight alongside the last true Lion”

He raised his eyes and the gratitude that lay within shone in his eyes. He laid his other hand on hers and nodded “Until we come across a vessel bearing Horus’s banner I will train you both. We will endure until our time is done”

She smiled wearily and started to fall asleep. Amon lifted her into his arms and carried her to what looked like a sleeping berth. He told Tommy to do the same and took command of the vessel. The destination imprinted on his brain, Malcadors last orders speaking to him, guiding him, into an unknown destiny.

The universe was not finished with Amon yet, and Amon the last true Custode was not yet finished with it.

 

Jubal Khan stood before the great stone effigy of his father, his body trembling with the rage and the grief at his father’s death. As First Khan and Chapter Master it was his duty to lead his brothers, he was now the way of the Scars and he had no idea if he was going to live up to the Great Khans ideals, but he knew he would have to, for the future of the Legion he would have to. He heard the feet behind him and turned to see the Captains from his companies on Chogoris snap to attention, their white armour pristine and awaiting his orders.

“When the days of mourning are over” he quietly spoke “we will allow the artisans to rebuild our fortress and when our honoured dead have been revered and honoured, we will destroy the Salamanders”

“My Khan” Noray Singh bowed his head “Is this going to be a hunt?”

Jubal Khan flinched at the title given him by the Second Captain but to his credit he did not let it show.

“It will be a hunt that will last for eternity” Jubal snarled “Even when this war is over every Salamander will die by our hands, let them know what it means to suffer at the hands of the sons of the Steppes, the son of Chogoris and the Sons of Jugathi Khan”

“Hail Jubal Khan” The shout rang round.

Sanguinius and Mortarion stood watching from the shadows. Mortarion had his arms folded across his chest and a look of approval on his gaunt features.

“They will endure brother” He told Sanguinius “of that I am certain”

“The sons of Jugathi will be our greatest force” The Angel replied “They have lost their father, we have lost a brother and the Emperor has just made one of the fastest Legions’ his enemy”

Mortarion nodded and the two Primarchs fell silent.

 

The Emperor sat sentinel over his sons’ body. He was certain Vulkan would live as only he could repair a Primarchs body. It was by his will that he endured and his chosen endured. It was obvious now that the lines had been drawn, if to get his own way he would have to destroy the other Legions before bringing them to heel, then so be it.

It was his will to lead his people into a new future and it was his will that mattered, nothing more and nothing less. He glanced at the medical scanners and smiled, Vulkan would be fine and would live to continue another war.

“Let the Galaxy burn in my name” He whispered.


End file.
